Dark History
by VegaWriters
Summary: Can best friends and soul mates also be lovers? Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it, but what about those who live history every day? Can they ever break the cycle of dependency and find solid ground?
1. Chapter 1

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Saywer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills._

_A/N: I was reading a fic a while back, where Toby called CJ "Jeanie". And the idea stuck with me and I can't for the life of me remember the story, but I liked the nickname, so I'm using it and this is as close as I get to being able to credit her. _

**Part One: A Change in the Air**

**2005 – Washington D.C.**

After a while he got up, coming back into the room and wincing a bit at the too loud music and the overly bright lights. He hated things like this. He hated wasting any part of his 24 hours on mundane things like this. Even worse, he hated it when Leo was right. And he hated that he was mad at Josh for going off without him. Eight years ago he hadn't wanted anything to do with the guy, now he felt like he'd lost yet another brother.

As always, she was the first thing he spotted in a room. Looking across the haze of gaudy decorations and the sea of people, he could see her standing there, glaring quietly at Leo as yet again, Leo made a point to prove himself right. And yet, looking at her, all he could think was how in the twenty years he'd known her, and the millions of times she'd explained it to him, he never understood why she wore those four inch heels. But in this moment, he didn't care. She was beautiful, with the light glinting off her hair and the way the black of her shirt made her seem even more slender. She hated how thin she was, he loved it, took it as another testament to her inner strength. And to see the grace with which she could cross a room, particularly when he'd also seen her fall into swimming pools and off of treadmills, it took his breath away.

_Can this be one of those nights where we get sloshed and pretend that we don't work together?_

Did she mean it? Had she already put the lid on Tommy? To anyone else, the invitation meant nothing, just a chance to drink, but to him it meant a night in heaven. From 100 yards away he could already taste the lingering affects of the champagne on her tongue and smell the perfume – perfume he'd bought for her for Christmas. Had she changed her mind since the other morning, when she'd rolled out of bed and raced to the bathroom, locking it behind her as she shook off the effects of her own breakdown – when she'd told him that it couldn't happen again, that she had someone else in her life. Ten hours after her own emotional collapse, thanks to that damned list of people, he'd found out about David and they hadn't talked about that night since.

He'd yelled at her, screaming at her to not come with him to the funeral even while she packed his bags for him, and she'd stood there and taken his rage, and he also knew that she'd bought a ticket to New York, in case he relented and allowed her to be there. That she'd bought the ticket meant more to him than if she'd come along. And then he'd come back and Annabeth had handed him that message, that folder, and now they had something else, together to worry about and he could only think about what that book was going to do to both of their reputations.

And he knew that was why she walked on eggshells now, that she didn't want any more rumors circulating about how she'd managed to get her job, but he couldn't just pretend to forget about making love to her – not this time. He'd been forgetting after every night they spent together for the last seven years, but he couldn't allow it this time. Not so soon after this last misstep of theirs, not when he could still hear her crying his name as she trembled around him. Not when things between them were so tenuous, able to slip back into that pattern of theirs where they pretended they were in love – or where they meant it. But there were still eight months left until the election. Eight months of standing across a room like this.

She could feel his eyes on her, but didn't turn, intent instead on lecturing Leo as to why he was wrong, even though he was right. But she knew when he'd come back into the room, and her entire posture had changed, even though her head still hadn't turned. She could feel those piercing eyes burning into her, challenging her, daring her to turn and meet him half way. And, still talking to Leo, she did turn her attention, watching him, this darkened shadow beneath the too bright lights and lost in the too loud music. He just stood there, his glass of scotch in his hand, watching her watch him and thankfully, Cliff came up, grabbing Leo's attention and she stepped aside, still a part of the conversation, but her attention now fully on Toby.

To the world, he communicated in speeches, volumes long, oratory that lifted houses off the ground and moved the world to stand and fight. To her, he communicated only with looks and grunts, and spoke more than anyone could ever dare to. And when she'd teased him, they'd both known she was serious. Tommy was gone, back on another plane, and he was fun, but he wasn't what she needed, even if he was what she wanted. And maybe it was because she couldn't face him, not after the other night, not after she'd woken up pressed against Toby's naked body after he'd caught her after her breakdown. She couldn't look at Tommy, not after she'd opened her bathroom door after vomiting out anything left in her stomach from the day before, and Toby had been standing there with a glass of ginger ale and her thick, terry cloth robe. By the time they'd reached the office, her head was back in the game, and by the end of the day, even though they'd lost ground on the list of banned persons, she was able to keep her shoulders straight and come to terms with the fact that Naji would possibly be coming into the country and she hadn't broken down again.

And then ten hours after she'd woken up at his side, he'd received the phone call and all she had been able to do for him was drive him home, pack his bags, and put him on the plane. He'd yelled at her, ordering her not to follow him. But she had bought the plane ticket anyway, and she'd known that he knew she had it. But he had needed to do this himself, and she'd respected that, staying behind, and staying awake until he called after the funeral – just to say that it was done. It wasn't until his office earlier that she'd known the truth, and she could still see the tears on his cheeks as he'd told her. She'd asked if he wanted her to stay. And he did. And maybe that was the moment where things had changed again. She didn't know, but she did know that tonight she wanted to forget that they worked together. And, honestly, she wanted to be sober while she did it.

He just stood there, staring at her, one hand stuffed into his pocket, the other around the glass of scotch, and she felt the same surge go through as she had that first day, twenty years ago, when he'd turned around after hearing her swearing up and down inside the campaign office and those deep brown eyes had actually silenced her. Time had softened him, had softened both of them, and she could feel the wrinkles around her eyes and wondered if she really looked as old as she felt when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. But the other night, when he had caught her, when she had been overwhelmed with the memories of Naji and his fist against her body, he had told her over and over again that she was beautiful and kissed away the faded scars.

"Excuse me, Leo. Cliff, I'll see you first thing in the morning." She gave her new deputy chief of staff a sweet smile, effectively cutting off any argument he was going to make and she knew he would show up tomorrow and the argument would continue and he would help them to make a difference. Sauntering over to where her storm cloud stood, she stopped to pick another glass of champagne off a tray, and then continued to cross the room. "She's gone?" CJ tilted her head in the direction of the bar.

"Yeah."

"Don't. Ever. Do that again." For a moment she was his boss, for a moment she showed the flash of hurt he knew he'd felt when Josh had left.

"I won't leave, Jeanie." He whispered. "But I know who I want."

She just nodded. "We all do, Toby. We all do."

Turning so that she stood next to him, she surveyed the room, wondering how long it would take before they could be polite and leave. He would have to leave first … she stopped herself and then just looked at him, wondering if this was going to happen, or if they were going to be sane and not let the rush of campaigning and the adrenaline of the fight push them into bed. But tonight it was about more than that. They healed each other through sex, and tonight it was his turn. Putting a hand on his elbow, she tilted her head again, asking a completely different question.

The look he gave her was an act of desperation, begging her to not leave him alone again. The gentle touch she had given him in his office had been almost too much to bear and he wondered for the millionth time how she could make love to him just by touching his arm or linking their fingers. And she just nodded, adding the pressure to his elbow, before she stepped away just enough, the signal clear, and he knew she would meet him at his apartment.

Stealing away was easier said than done, and it was a long time before she slipped out to the car, nodding to the driver as she climbed in back. She hadn't driven herself since the other night, since she'd completely broken down, and a big part of her didn't care to risk it. Her hands still shook whenever she even thought about the possibility of seeing Naji again. So she sat in the back of the car, staring out the window, watching the lights of the city fly by.

And when they pulled up in front of the familiar building, she told the driver not to worry about her, that she'd be fine, and knew also that her service detail would be nearby, whether she ordered them away or not. Thanking God for their discretion, she made her way up the stairs and let herself into the house.

She could see the bottle of scotch, and the two glasses, and knew that neither had been touched. The cigars sat in their box, the lighter on top, and her preferred brand of clove cigarettes next to them. The only light in the room came from the light blue glow of the muted television – CSPAN-2 tonight. Still in his suit, he seemed to just have appeared there, frozen, a scene she'd seen over and over for the past seven years. And she didn't need to speak his name, he just looked up at her as she locked the door behind her and watched as she removed her wrap and came to sit next to him on the couch.

"What did you tell Tommy?" His voice caught a bit on the name.

"Nothing. I didn't need to say anything, he's on a plane, remember? Toby, I …"

"You like him. I know you do." He gave himself the Toby-laugh and then looked up at the ceiling. "And what's not to like. He's rich and he's handsome and he's a member of the President's cabinet and spends his time flying back and forth between DC and wherever and he's going to be running the DNC next year."

"I don't have the time for it to really work. And neither does he." She shook her head, "And why are we talking about this?"

"Because it's what I want to talk about." He looked at her and reached out, touching the bracelet on her wrist. "It's easier than anything else right now."

Slowly, she pulled her wrist away, but took his hand in her own and turned it, palm up, and traced his lifeline. "You're going to live forever."

"That's what I'm afraid of." He shook his head, but didn't pull his hand away. "So what happened? Other than us screwing up the other night."

"He doesn't know. And he's not going to know. And I don't know where he and I are on anything, Toby. Okay?" After a minute she reached for the pack of cigarettes, "We should have just gotten sloshed."

"I want to know how the word "Gotten" became a part of the American vocabulary. We should have just got sloshed is actually better. Or let ourselves get sloshed. Or –"

"You sure you aren't right now?"

"CJ, if I were, that dress would be on the floor right now." He looked at her, his eyes painfully serious. "But I figured since I was reasonably sober when I left that hell-party that I should continue to be sober."

"Yeah …" she whispered, lighting the cigarette and breathing in the slightly stale clove-scented tobacco. She only smoked with him, and he kept her cigarettes in the freezer, waiting for her to need them. The smoke gave her something to focus on and she did for a long time, waiting for him to speak again. "How come we only make love when we're drunk?"

"We only fuck when we're drunk. When we're sober we make love. We were sober the other night." He watched her inhale the deadly smoke, trapping it in her body and then slowly let it back out into the air. "And until the other night, it had been a long time since either of those occurrences. Anyway, you've got a boyfriend."

"A sort of boyfriend." She sighed again and took another long drag on the cigarette. "Were you really going to leave? Really?" She turned to look at him, eyes slightly wild with terror.

"I would have if Josh had asked the first time around. I would have." He knew his honesty hurt her, but he never afforded her anything less. "Leo said something tonight …"

"It's our Party now." She reached over, ashing the cigarette into the ashtray nearby. "Yeah. I know. He told me that when I took over his job."

"You're better at his job than you realize."

"I'm filler for Josh." She sighed. "But that doesn't mean I'm not good at it."

"Or that you weren't the right choice." He looked at her, "You aren't finished in politics, CJ. You're the White House Chief of Staff, and more than that, you've got something to say."

"Why are we talking about me again?"

"Because it's easier." He touched her hand again, sending shock waves through them. A simple touch was all it took – having her legs wrapped around him was just extra. It was this he loved, this he craved. This simple touch. "When's the book going to get published?" He knew that she knew, that she'd fleshed it out. Or had Margaret do it. No, she couldn't just have one personal crisis hanging over her head, she needed multiple ones, and this book was bothering her more than she wanted to admit.

She laughed, humorlessly. "Around the same time Naji gets let back into the country, the President has another attack, and the New York Post gets pictures of you and me through my bedroom window." She looked at him, "It's done and ready, they're just waiting for the best bullet."

"They know the DNC wants you on a ballot …"

"They'll wait, and the right will pull it out and before you know it I'll be the next whore for the RNC."

"You should talk to Sydney." He didn't let go of her wrist, but took her hand this time, and traced the lifeline he felt more than saw there. How amazing that it was so closely tied to his. "And don't ever use that word in relation to yourself again." His eyes narrowed and he stared her down, through her, "We made mistakes, mistakes that hurt everyone, most notably – ourselves. CJ, that doesn't make you a whore. You didn't get your job because you know how to blow me better than anyone I've ever been with. You got this job because you can charm the press better than anyone I've ever been witness to and because on top of that, you have a natural instinct for policy!" He couldn't control his rising temper, "Don't even think I didn't know that bringing you on meant someone else good at the actual shaping of the issues! Don't think Leo didn't think something like this out before he said yes to _you_. You're good, CJ. And your career reputation has always preceded you. Don't ever use that word to describe yourself again." He dropped her hand, but kept his eyes on hers. "I should have asked you to marry me." He said, his voice almost defiant of the look in her eyes.

"I still would have said no." She choked out, reaching for another cigarette and wishing he'd just pour the damned scotch. She no longer wanted to be sober for this, and the champagne was wearing off.

"You were pregnant."

"You didn't know. I didn't know. And if you'd asked me or not, I still would have lost the baby. Toby, it wasn't right then and it's not right to even be discussing it now." The smoke gave her something to focus on, but she kept coming back to his eyes. "Toby, don't start walking back all the mistakes we made just because you're terrified that you're no better than your brother." She knew he hated her for the honesty, but she couldn't afford him any less. Not while sitting here, knowing where tonight would lead, and thinking back to the other man in her life.

"That's not fair, CJ." The hurt seeped into his words, and he just stared at the bottle of scotch, still not opening it.

"Probably not, but it's on your mind."

"And we should discuss it. We've never discussed it."

"So what." She could feel her defensiveness rising and the fifteen year old ache seeping back into her body. "Toby, it's not something I like talking about."

"I don't like thinking about it either," he said, softly, "because you walking out on me changed everything."

"And it changed it for the better! Toby, we wouldn't be sitting here if we'd managed to get married … and …"

He grabbed for her hand, "I know," he managed to get out, before her diatribe could begin, "but I'm Jewish, allow me the guilt I'm feeling right now." CJ almost laughed in response. Almost. Again he traced her lifeline, looking at her palm for a long time. "I used to do this, you know."

"I know." She smiled at him, blowing out another puff of the smoke. "I'd pretend to be asleep because I loved the feel of your fingers on me like that." She could feel the smile in Toby, just through the change of the touch of his fingers. "It was one of the things I missed the most …" she sighed and shook her head. "Toby, come on, do we really need to sit here like this?"

"Yes." He looked at her softly. "Yes. We do." Gathering her close into his arms, he smiled when her head found his shoulders and her hand came to rest over his heart. And he opened his mouth and started talking.

**To Be Continued …**

_Copyright March 2005_


	2. Chapter 2

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Saywer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills._

_A/N: I was reading a fic a while back, where Toby called CJ "Jeanie". And the idea stuck with me and I can't for the life of me remember the story, but I liked the nickname, so I'm using it and this is as close as I get to being able to credit her. _

**Part Two: Heated Beginnings**

**1984 - New York, NY**

"Jesus Christ!"

It was an exclamation like that, in a mostly Jewish office, which caught his attention. After that it was the long legs, the thin body, the long blondish-brown hair, and bright blue eyes that he later learned changed color with her moods.

"He doesn't work here." Toby grumbled as he stormed past the new comer, heading straight for his office. But as he reached the door he turned, looking at the leggy blonde, and realized that not only did _she_ work here, but also she'd be a part of the communications staff. Slowly, slowly he looked her up and down, appraising her stance and her character more than her legs, although they weren't too bad to look at either.

"You're CJ Cregg?" He asked, remembering now, fully, the conversation he'd only listened partly to as he was leaving the office last night. Young hot shot from the PR firm the campaign had hired. Too young, it looked like. She couldn't have been more than twenty. Maybe twenty-five.

"Yeah. And you are?" Having not yet even taken off her coat, he knew he was off to a bad start. Be nice, he'd been told. Be nice. She's hotheaded and won't hesitate to storm out if you insult her. He'd been told that, and here he was, obviously insulting her. Somehow.

But he just chuckled and shook his head, "Toby Ziegler. Now get in here so we can talk, okay?" He could fight attitude with attitude. CJ Cregg wasn't going to push him around just because she towered over everyone in the room. Shutting the door behind her, he motioned to the one chair in his tiny office, not caring that she had to move files off of it before sitting down. "You," he reached for the resume on the top of the pile, "were sent here because your PR firm thinks this campaign doesn't have a chance in hell of winning so they aren't going to waste the high paying gigs when they can send the rookies."

For a moment she looked like she was going to argue with him, but then just shrugged and smiled. "Yeah. But I'm still here and I'm going to do my best. Point me where you want to go."

Her complete honesty unnerved him, just for a moment, and he liked it, but found it easier to cover it up under a matching attitude. "At least we've got your commitment. Your desk is right out there, close by so that I can yell for you."

"I'm not your assistant, Tobus." The name came off her lips easily, and both of them were amused by it, even if he tried to cover it up with even more bluster. Never in his life had he been so quickly unnerved by anyone.

"It's Toby." He corrected, rolling his eyes. Handing her a stack of files, he then motioned to the door. This meeting was over and she could craft what she needed to craft without insulting him further.

Settling at the small desk and wondering how on earth she'd be able to get her long legs comfortable, CJ just shook her head, still thrown off by the meeting she'd just had. She wasn't just some novice who didn't give a shit about the campaign. Before coming down here, she'd reviewed the resumes of every staffer, memorized the position of the campaign, and taken the time to look at their polling numbers. Toby Ziegler had been handed the communications office after the previous two heads had walked away from the sinking ship. And now she had to work with him to keep this loosing battle from being, at the very least, an embarrassment. The top file was marked with about seven different post-its and she opened it, suppressing the gag reflex that came up when she saw the mishandling of press statements and polling models. Why the hell hadn't the professionals been brought in earlier? But then again, before Toby, monkeys ran the communications staff. Without even finishing reading the first statement, she was on the phone, rearranging meetings – looking between the penciled in schedule of the candidate and what was available for press time, and finding a pollster who knew enough to explain the models appropriately to her, if not to everyone else. If this campaign failed, it wasn't going to be because she let it.

"CJ!"

Looking up, annoyed at the sudden interruption, CJ pointed to the phone that was to her ear and rolled her eyes at the man who stood at her side. She swiped her notes away from his eyes and waved him away. But he just stood there, looking over her shoulder, and waiting. Waiting while she talked to the news organization, cleared up a quote given by an "anonymous" staffer, and set up a date for a brief interview with the candidate. "What is it?" She asked as the phone slid back into the cradle.

"Are you sure that—"

"Am I sure what, Tobus?"

He groaned. Two days and already the nickname wasn't going anywhere. "Are you sure –"

"Am I sure that plugging leaks and getting the candidate back out into the field is a good thing? Yes, Toby, I am. Are you going to let me do my job now?" She crossed her arms and looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow.

Again, he found himself just rocked off his heels. How the hell did she manage to do that to him, even sitting down? When standing up, he could understand it. He was only an inch shorter than she was, but when she put those damned high heels on, it made all the difference in the world. But sitting down, when he could tower over her, it shouldn't happen. And yet it did. Her blue eyes flashed up at him, demanding that he let her do her job. "I was wondering how your job was going."

"I'm wondering who the hell you've been hiring around here." The eyebrow stayed cocked.

"People who want to make a change."

"They're making a change all right, Toby. This campaign –"

"Don't lecture me on the campaign, CJ! I know full well what the problems in it are."

"Then I suggest you go back to your boss and the candidate and enact some change around here, Toby! You can't change New York unless you run a good campaign. And this campaign—"

"I get the point, CJ!"

"Do you? Really? Do you actually understand what you're telling me?"

"I've been doing this a hell of a lot longer than you have, CJ!"

"Don't be so sure!" He made the mistake of looking around and taking in the looks of every staffer who was looking their way. In that moment he had the choice to continue the argument in his office or walk away. And as much as he wanted to continue it, to listen to her yell at him some more, he had to go and … talk to the candidate and the campaign director. So he just glared at her and then stormed away, toward the main offices, and trying to rid himself of the feeling of those piercing blue eyes burning into his back.

Home was too polite a word for the four walls and a window that she came to every night. But despite the tiny hole she was able to afford in mid-town, it was decorated to her exacting tastes – complete with framed prints of different news banners, her Van Gogh prints, and of course, the poster Ben had done for her as a graduation present – an elephant and a donkey having it out. And the donkey was winning. The futon was wooden, matching her chair and two bar stools, and had been stained enough times that you'd never be able to tell just how old they were. Her large coffee table served as her desk and when she wasn't in the office, she was here, sitting cross legged in front of the piles of papers and brochures, listening with half an ear to whatever was on the TV at the time, or, when her tiny radio would pick it up, NPR. Piles of cassette tapes sat, collecting dusk, she didn't have the time to listen like she once did – her mind needing to be in five places at once.

The half-eaten bowl of soup had gone completely cold by the time she reached for it again, and she grimaced, spitting the peas back into the bowl and then set it aside again, again diving back into her work. The campaign was falling to hell, despite their rising numbers. Twenty percent in the past three weeks and it was still not enough to get them home. They'd be lucky to not humiliate themselves, and at this point, that's all she was asking for. Picking up a memo, she read through it, frowning a bit, wondering why this candidate, a man from one of the "Gayest" areas in New York, still demanded to say nothing about the health crisis that is ravaging the city. This would be the key, right here, to winning, but the man wouldn't even open his mouth about it. Yet another memo: the poverty in the South Bronx. Another: how women are refusing to report abuse. She stared at the memo, her fingers unconsciously moving over the light scar on her forehead. More and more, if he would just address these issues, he'd win the campaign. But this man wasn't a winner, he was a politician, and worse than that, a flash. After this, no one would ever remember his name and New York would continue, as it always had.

A buzz made her jump, and she dropped the memo on domestic violence into her soup. "What?" Calling out, annoyed, she got to her feet, heading to the door. Who on earth would be bothering her at this hour?

Honestly, he had no clue why he sought her out tonight. Other than he saw the latest numbers as he was leaving and he knew, now, that they couldn't hope to win. They could only hope to not be completely embarrassed. So he came to find her, annoyed that he'd become so dependent on her as it is. And he was surprised to find her living in a place like this, and that she could afford it. It wasn't fancy, but better than the rat hole he lives in. Her irritated "What" comes through the door and before he answered, the door opened and she looked at him, her hands on her hips and he could swear that she's smirking. "Hey." He mumbled his greeting around his tongue, looking down at the floor suddenly.

"Jesus, Tobus, what do you want?" Turning around, she moved back into the tiny apartment, letting him follow if he wanted, he figured, by not slamming the door in his face. "And if you're here to talk about the numbers, I know full well how pitiful they look."

"Well," he closed the door behind him, "I came to talk about the numbers."

Laughing, CJ turned back to him and eyed the closed door. "Well, we've already covered that they are pitiful." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, suddenly self-conscious of the tight pink tank top she was wearing. "What else did you want to talk about?"

Sighing, Toby just looked at her. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that, right, CJ?"

"So are you. Don't take it too much to heart." She chuckled at that and then moved to the futon, clearing off a space for him. "I've figured out why we're going to loose this thing."

"Because the numbers won't climb."

"They would if he'd open his mouth and deal with any of just three issues he's ignoring right now."

"You know that and I know that, but he wants to win the conservative vote too."

"He can't be both, Toby. And you know that." She crossed her arms over her chest again, wishing her sweater was closer.

"Stop preaching." Trying, futilely, to sound gruff, he finally just pulled out a cigarette and lit up, not asking permission because he could see the pack of Marlboro reds on her coffee table. "I just came over here to tell you about the numbers." He got up, reluctantly, moving toward the door. "And I'm sorry if that bothers you. It's your job too, you know …"

For a moment, just a moment, CJ softened toward him. "Yeah." Rubbing her eyes, she backed over to the tiny kitchenette and poked her head into the fridge, looking to see what she had to offer him. "Want a beer?"

"You mean you're not kicking me out?"

"Just don't get used to it. Come on, I'm working right now and you're sitting here. Maybe, just maybe, we can come up with a program to bring to them that will make this campaign fly." She cracked a grin as he walked over to take the beer from her. "Never thought you for a gentleman, Tobus."

"I'm not, Legs." He winked, thinking he finally had a nickname for her, until she smacked him, hard, on the back of the head.

"Do yourself a favor and don't call me that again."

"Okay." It came out as a partial question. But when her back turned, he could tell she was smiling. And he didn't like it.

"For the love of GOD, Toby! When the hell are you going to realize that I'm right in this? When, for God's sake are you going to acknowledge that I might understand just a little bit about what I'm talking about. Sweet Jesus, for the Love of GOD!"

"How many times are you going to mention God there, CJ?" The icy glare that she sent his way kept him from making any other snide comments, no matter how much he wanted to make them. So instead, he just threw the papers at her, not really caring that they careened to the floor. Slowly, he advanced on her, still matching her shouts, not even knowing or caring that the hours were passing and they were alone in the office. And suddenly his lips were on hers and he was pushing her into the wall, and his hand was at the hem of her skirt, pulling it up, and she'd stopped pushing him away and her hands were on his belt, unbuckling, and pulling him closer. But this was his argument to win, and he took her, pushing her harder into the wall, claiming her willing body with his own.

"God ..." she whimpered as she climaxed, clenching around him, and he thrust into her again, clarifying, as if there was any question, as to who won the argument. And as he pulled out and pulled away, zipping up his pants again, he also knew that he would take her arguments to heart and take them to their bosses and he knew that most of his anger came from the fact that they would ignore her, not that she was right. She stayed there, leaning against the wall, catching her breath and he just looked down in shame, realizing how close he'd come to raping her in that moment. "God …" she whispered again.

"CJ …" He still couldn't look up at her.

"Toby …" He felt, more than heard, her sharp intake of breath and the unconscious smoothing of her skirt. The argument far from over, he hated himself for doing this, for claiming victory like a cave man. "Toby." She repeated his name again, and this time when he listened to it, he only heard his own recriminations and nothing from her. "Glad you got that off your chest, pokey?"

He laughed. For the first time in her presence, he actually laughed. "God, CJ…"

"I think we've covered that part." Stepping away from the wall, she didn't approach him, but just crossed her arms and looked at him, carefully. "You done proving your point now?"

Again, he laughed and finally brought his face up to look at her. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Probably not." She reached for her jacket, "But you did. And now I know where you stand." Flushing more than she wanted, she leaned against the chair a bit, her knees still weak from what he'd been able to do to her in such a short period of time.

He took her words far harsher than they were meant to be. "CJ, really, I'm sorry, I …" but she just silenced him by putting a finger over his lips. "I'm going home now. And don't apologize when you don't mean it, Toby. It doesn't suit you. I'll see you in the morning." Casting him one more look over her shoulder, she headed back out into the darkness.

When had the sun gone down? How long had they been arguing? How long had he had her pinned against the wall? He just sank back to his desk, his head in his hands. He knew she wasn't mad at him for what he'd done, but he couldn't stay the feelings. He shouldn't have done that. He definitely shouldn't have done that. But her scent was still with him, he could still taste her tongue, and tomorrow he had to face her.

**To Be Continued …**

_Copyright 2005_


	3. Chapter 3

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Sawyer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills_

_A/N: I was reading a fic a while back, where Toby called CJ "Jeanie". And the idea stuck with me and I can't for the life of me remember the story, but I liked the nickname, so I'm using it and this is as close as I get to being able to credit her._

_Excerpts from Cry to Heaven_, _written by Anne Rice; Copyright 1982, Ballantine Books._

Part Three: Heaven's Door 

1984

New York City, NY

He didn't know why he was holding his breath while watching the election coverage. They weren't going to win, that had been made obvious about two hours ago. And still he sat here, waiting for them to officially call the night. Around him, staffers packed the office into boxes and pushed the more sensitive documents through the one shredder they'd been able to get their hands on. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see CJ working quietly in his office, but on what exactly he wasn't sure.

In the last twenty-four hours, he'd been witness to their candidate blowing up at her in ways that shouldn't be legal. Although she'd kept her head held high for the duration of the scathing talking to, he knew enough to understand that the tougher set to her shoulders only meant she was going to keep from letting emotion cloud this moment for her. She had to, if anything, keep her composure. He also knew that her PR firm would give her a similar talking to, and he wondered, for the millionth time, why she had given up that position with the Women's Leadership Conference.

Tearing himself away from the TV, Toby made his way to the small office he'd been given to use. She was sitting at his desk, looking through memos, and trying to not let it show how upset she was over tonight's loss. "Hey …"

When she looked up at him, her blue eyes full of the same defeat he was feeling, he came in all the way and closed the door behind him. "CJ," he started off, quietly, "it happens. That's politics."

"Toby … don't start, okay." She looked back down at the memos, anything to try and feel productive in these last few moments. "Did he give the speech?"

"Are you kidding? He's going to hold out until the very end." Toby snorted. "And you should be there when he does."

"I'd rather not, if it's all the same. I'm going to go home, open a beer, and just try and figure out how I'm going to go into work in the morning." She refused to look up at him, knowing that he would be watching her, wondering if somewhere in there he was going to be coming too.

Toby sighed, grumbling, wishing for the love of everything Holy that he could understand that complicated mind of hers. So he just stood up, leaving her to her memos, and went hunting down their candidate.

CJ waited until the door closed behind him before looking up again, watching his retreating figure through the office. She hadn't wanted him to get up and leave, but she couldn't sit there with him either. Hating herself for not being able to figure herself out and for making him go through it too. She liked him, and she hated that too. She liked that when he rolled off of her, he always touched her stomach, as if making sure he hadn't crushed her. She liked that when he wanted her on top of him, he'd tug her hips in a way that almost seemed like he was begging. She liked that he never stayed the night, or asked her to. She liked that this desk she was sitting at had been the site of more of their sexual encounters than any other place they frequented.

Maybe that was why she'd sought out his office. She didn't know and she wasn't in the mood to start exploring those aspects of herself right now. Right now, she had memos to go through and start getting rid of.

Halfway across the office, he turned, feeling those eyes staring into his back. She sat there, looking through the window of his office, meeting his eyes with her own. He hated to admit how much he liked her. He liked how she argued with him, no matter the issue, even if she agreed with him. He liked how when they were in bed together she understood his silent signals and that she called his name when she came. He liked that she didn't stay the night, and she never asked to. He liked that the desk she was sitting at was covered in_ her_. And when he started back toward her again, this time the connection was interrupted by the candidate, bellowing that it was time for the concession speech. Sighing, Toby followed. CJ was just going to have to wait.

"So what are you going to do tomorrow?" Rolling over, CJ smiled as Toby's lazy fingers kept up their tracing of her body, this time centering on her stomach rather than the small of her back.

"I'm not sure yet. What about you?" His eyes found hers and his hand slipped lower, slowly tracing the bony lines of her hips.

"I still have a job. Remember, the PR firm you guys hired?" She couldn't help but chuckle. "I still work for them."

"See, you did it the right way." His fingers continued their downward search, coming to rest on her inner thigh, caressing lightly, and smirking a bit as he watched her try not to squirm. He loved teasing her and tormenting her, and it happened more here than at her place. There she was in control, and the sex tended to be far more athletic and demanding. But this was his apartment, his bed, and on his turf, he made the rules for what went on in bed. At least, he liked to think he did. And, lying here, there was a rule he wanted to break, but he wasn't sure how to do it. So, rather than getting her to ask another question so that he could avoid the last one, he leaned in, kissing her again, claiming her mouth and her body for his own.

Sunlight filtered through the small window in the apartment, casting long shadows through the room and telling the roaches that it was time to find somewhere else to play for a while. Curled up on the small couch bed were two figures, wrapped tightly in each other, sleeping comfortably.

Toby opened his eyes first, almost frightened by the scent of the woman in his arms. She'd never stayed the night before, but last night, it had seemed natural to fall asleep in each other's arms. No conversation had been had about it, no arguing, they'd just fallen asleep together, talking, and hardly moved from how they'd been holding each other. And just like that, the rule had been broken. Toby looked down at her alabaster skin, and gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, amazed at his own tenderness toward her. Going into the evening, he'd assumed everything would fall apart, with the ending of the campaign came the ending of the sex. But now, holding her, he was so glad she'd stayed.

She stirred lightly at his touch, and when she opened her eyes, they were filled with the same panic he'd first felt when he'd woken only a few moments ago. And, as he had, she relaxed, and snuggled closer to him. "Well …" she said softly, "this takes us to a whole new level, doesn't it."

"Yeah …" He whispered, still lightly caressing her skin. "Of course, I'm also not keeping you here if you don't want to be."

"Toby …" looking up at him, she forced him to meet her eyes. "Shut up." She didn't know what she wanted, and waking up here had been the farthest thing from her mind. She had liked their good little world, but that world had ended with the concession speech last night, so it only made sense that something about their relationship would change as well. She just hadn't been expecting this.

He laughed, lightly, and kissed her nose. "Okay, but then what, hm?" The laughter continued when she hit him, hard, on the arm and he just rolled over her, slipping a leg between her knees and sliding her willing legs apart.

"I'm going to be late for work, Toby," she moaned as he kissed her neck. "I still have to head back to my apartment and get clothes …"

"So you'll be late," he growled. "They'll understand."

"Yeah …" she hissed as he entered her, digging her nails into his back. "I'm sorry, but I was late because my lover was having his way with me…"

"Exactly," he murmured in time to his first thrust, before silencing her arguments with his lips. They didn't speak again until she cried his name as she climaxed and he grunted her own as he poured himself into her. It was always in this moment that he wondered about birth control and if she'd ever get pregnant. He had a passing idea she was on the pill, but they'd never talked about it. So, when she finally rolled out of bed, pulling on her clothes, he watched, wondering what this really meant. "CJ?" She turned back to him, blouse half buttoned, hair messed, and got out of bed, slowly, completely unaware of his nakedness compared to her fully dressed state. Totally unsure of what to do next, he stroked her hair back behind her ears, "Call me when you get home from work tonight. We'll go out or something, okay?"

Blushing slightly, she just nodded and smiled. "Pick me up at my place at nine, okay?"

"Yeah." It came out more as a question than he wanted it to.

"Yeah." Kissing him softly, she moved to slip her shoes on, grab her briefcase, and hurry out before she was even later for work. Toby just sat on the edge of his bed, smelling her on the sheets, and wondering what was next for him.

"Guido Maffeo was castrated when he was six years old and sent to study with the finest singing masters in Naples.

He had known only routine hunger and cruelty among the large peasant brood to which we was born the eleventh child. And all of his life, Guido remembered he was given his first good meal and soft bed by those who made him a eunuch."

Honestly, Toby wasn't sure if he cared at all about what she was reading to him, but he did know that the very thought made him hurt. He hadn't had the chance yet to pick up this latest of the Anne Rice books, though, and he liked that CJ liked her. And even better, he liked that her idea of going out was ordering pizza in and staying in either of their beds, reading to each other from random passages of books from authors they shared a love for. Rice was a guilty, secret pleasure of his. He liked how cerebral she was, how even if the story was beyond even the most logical realm of comprehension, she still made you think. "Are you really sure you want to be talking about eunuchs while I'm lying here on your bed?" Reaching for another piece of pizza, he chuckled at the glare she threw him.

"You said you hadn't read this one yet."

"I want to know where in your world you find the time to read like you do. Getting through your undergrad and grad school in five years, and then working like you do."

"A woman has her ways, Tobus." Chuckling, she closed the book and reached for a piece of pizza for herself. "I think you're just uncomfortable because we're talking about men with no balls."

"It's not exactly a topic of conversation that sits well with me," he laughed as CJ reached over and tried to squeeze him through his boxer shorts. "Stop that."

"Okay, fine." Giggling, she reached for the book again. "It was a beautiful room to which he was taken in the mountain town of Caracena. It had a real floor of smooth stone tiles, and on the wall Guido saw a ticking clock for the first tie in his life and was frightened of it. The soft-spoken men who had taken him from his mother's hands asked him to sing for them. And afterwards rewarded him with a red wine full of honey." Looking up, she closed the book again. "That sounds good, actually."

"You have red wine and honey?"

"No, but there's another beer in the fridge. Bring it to me." She giggled again as he rolled his eyes at her but headed for the tiny kitchenette to get fresh beers for both of them. Watching as he rooted around for the cold drinks, CJ sighed softly, wondering how she'd managed to find herself in a situation like this again. Not since Ben had decided "they were better apart" had she dared to let herself even think about being with someone else, let alone finding herself in an actual relationship. And now she was reading Anne Rice to him and wanting to answer his questions about the scar on her forehead and the other one on her arm. She wanted to know why he only talked about his sisters, when there was also a brother in there as well. But instead, she just took the beer he handed back to her and opened the book again, fully intending to read, until Toby reached across the bed, closed the book, and gently pushed her down onto the mattress.

Over the next couple of months, the transition from lovers to a couple was almost seamless – something else CJ didn't quite understand. Toby took a job with the political office for the public school system; CJ continued her upward trek in the PR firm. And when he took a job with one of the members of the New York assembly, they argued over the woman's politics, and Toby kept threatening her with a job if she wouldn't shut up. It was perfect.

"Are you ever going to tell me about this?" Pulling her closer into his arms, Toby nuzzled at her forehead, kissing the faded scar.

"Are you ever going to stop asking?"

"Well, you could tell me, and then I'd have no reason to ask." But the tone wasn't nearly as snappish as the words. Something about how she'd pulled away told him it wasn't a case of falling out of a tree as a child.

"Toby …" she sighed and rolled away, keeping the blanket wrapped over her body, and letting her hand draw absently on the floor. "It's …"

"Yeah?" Knowing better than to push her, he just waited. If she clamed up, she clamed up and he'd wait a few more months to ask again. But he had to know. She knew about his scars from the war, the protests, from just living the life he had been born in to. And he knew nothing, and it bothered him. But he just waited, tracing her spine with his fingertips, waiting to see if she would turn and distract him, or reach for the book, or finally tell him the truth about why her anger was so thinly veiled every time they heard of a woman being harmed at the hands of another. He had his own theories, but had a feeling that all of them were tragically off base.

"It's old history, Toby. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"I don't worry, I wonder." It was a lie, and they both knew it. He did worry about it, because whatever it was had changed her forever. But he just nodded, and chuckled as she reached under the futon for the discarded copy of Cry to Heaven.

"It was raining," she began, "One of the last rains of the spring, perhaps. Because it was so warm nobody much minded. The piazza was silver and then a silvery blue in the rain, and from time to time the great stone floor seemed a solid sheet of shimmering water …" She shivered a bit, remembering without wanting to.

"CJ?" He looked at her, seeing the change in her blue eyes as they darkened even more. "Baby?" He almost never called her that, and she was the only one he'd ever give the name to. "What is it?"

"The rain …" she sighed softly, looking away from him, reaching up to touch the scar again. "It never rained there, but that day it did." And he just sat, quietly.

"Anisah!" CJ giggled as she chased her friend across the hotel courtyard. "Anisah, I am NOT going out there in that downpour, and you shouldn't either!"

"_We shouldn't go out at all." Anisah laughed as she peeked out into the main street, unconsciously adjusting her veil over her head. _

"_Yeah, it's raining." CJ laughed and peeked her head out next to Anisah's. Three days left in the country and it had finally decided to start raining. Finally. CJ actually missed the bay and the hills and she was so tired of sand she could scream. On the upside, she was getting to be very good at soccer. Basketball had been her sport in high school, and she missed playing a bit, but was glad she wasn't a member of the team now. If she had been, she wouldn't be here right now, with Anisah. _

"_I can't believe we're heading back in three days." Anisah sighed and curled up into the small chair near the door. _

"_It's been nice to be back home?" Curling up next to her, CJ smiled over at her friend._

"_San Francisco is home, but being here has taught me so much about my own culture. It's something that gets so lost back in the States." She sighed. _

"_Yeah." She tilted her head at her friend. "Hopefully we can eventually get a president to change that."_

_Anisah just giggled. "Yeah, right. It's a culture clash, Ceej. You know that." She shook her head at her friend and smiled. "But I'm really glad you came along on this trip."_

"_So am I. I had absolutely no idea about anything before I did this." CJ grinned. "Anyway, if that one guy we met yesterday is any indication of the men here, I'm just going to stay and tell Ben to forget himself." Anisah dissolved into giggles. _

"_I think he liked you too." She grinned, teasingly. _

"_What was his name again?"_

"_Naji." Anisah smiled, "And get the idea out of your head right now, Miss Cregg. The last thing we need is some incident involving an American girl and a Qumari boy. This isn't the summer love story from Grease." It was CJ's turn to dissolve into giggles. _

_The two women barely looked up as another woman slipped through the courtyard. Dressed traditionally, she kept her head bowed and made a point to avoid the two American women. From what Hanan had heard of their conversation, she knew exactly whom they were referring to in their giggles, and she didn't want her brother anywhere near them. But she just kept walking. _

_From the corner of her eye, CJ noticed the younger woman and looked over, wondering how much English the woman spoke and if she should call her into their conversation. But the woman was making a point to ignore her completely, and she had to respect that. So she turned back to Anisah's giggling. "You'd never think we were just a semester away from getting our graduate degrees," CJ said as she caught her friend's eyes again. "And here we are, giggling like schoolgirls."_

"_We are schoolgirls. Just, older ones." The words caused them to both collapse into laughter again. Anisah looked over and called out to the woman crossing the courtyard, smiling, recognizing her from the night before. "You're Hanan, right?" _

"_Yes, Ma'am." _

"_We're the same age, don't you dare call me ma'am." Anisah grinned, "This is CJ, I'm Anisah."_

"_I remember." Hanan offered them a small smile. She liked the women; she just didn't want them to get in trouble. And she needed to get back to where Naji was waiting for her. They weren't supposed to be unaccompanied. "I should go …"_

_CJ just offered her a smile. "You late for something? Cause it's awful messy out there right now and," she peeked out the window, "whoever was waiting for you isn't now. Hold out until the storm passes. I promise, I don't bite. I can't speak for Anisah, though."_

_Despite herself, Hanan giggled lightly and nodded, moving a bit closer to the women. CJ was right, her brother wasn't out there. He was probably in the coffee shop, shooting dice, and waiting for the storm to pass. So she moved over, and sat, and was soon laughing right along with the American women. _

"You got away with spending a summer in the Middle East?" Toby blinked at her, amazed.

"Yeah. And even got graded for it." She chuckled a bit, reaching for the mostly empty beer bottle, wishing that she hadn't started telling him about it. She missed Hanan, and Anisah was back in LA. "Spent the summer in Israel and Palestine, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Iraq, Egypt, and even Qumar. We had the most amazing guides and I met a woman whom I'm still friends with."

Toby actually smiled, listening to the excitement creep back into her voice. He wanted to ask if she'd met someone there, had some forbidden romance with an Arabic man that would still make her blush to tell it. It hadn't been all that long since she'd received that Masters Degree she was so proud of. "And?"

She sighed and shook her head. "It isn't …" Slowly, she pulled out of bed, searching for the book she'd abandoned.

Toby just took it from her, setting it back down, under the bed, and reached for her, gently pulling her into his arms. "It's okay, you know. You don't have to tell me everything." He just kissed the top of her head. "Really, you don't have to. It's not like I'm going anywhere any time soon."

She looked up at him then, smiling softly, "Careful, it's words like that will send me running."

"You aren't going anywhere."

"How do you know?"

"Because if you wanted to run, you'd have left already. And anyway, no matter where you go, I'll always be able to find you." He smiled softly, still wondering how it was that he'd managed to fall in love with her. And if he'd ever have the courage to tell _her_ how he felt.

Sometimes she really hated how well he knew her. And even more, she loved the fact that if she did run, she wanted him to come after her. Looking back into his deep brown eyes, CJ leaned up to kiss him softly, forgetting about the book, Qumar, and everything except his hands and lips on her body.

**2005 Washington DC**

She giggled a bit at the kiss they'd found themselves in and pulled out of his arms, reaching for her cigarettes. After a minute she got to her feet, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I'm going to go change. I still have those sweats here, right?"

"Yeah." He smiled softly, "Can I watch?"

CJ kicked him, did absolutely no damage, and then just shook her head. "Stay where you are, Pokey." Discarding the cigarette before lighting it, she disappeared back into the bedroom to pull on the old, ratted sweat suit that seemed too big now. She didn't know if it was because she'd lost weight or the material was just so stretched out from the years of wear. But the tank top she wore with it was new and pulled tightly over her chest and the jacket was still the most comfortable thing she owned. Pulling on a pair of his socks to keep her feet warm, CJ padded back down the hallway and chuckled as she walked in in time to find him pouring scotch into the glasses. "Going to get me drunk and take advantage of me?"

"Well, I contemplated the drunk thing, anyway." Giving her a smile, he sighed a bit, "You really shouldn't wear that around me, and it's that outfit that will get me to take advantage of you."

"I'd be naked otherwise, Pokey. And that's not for right now, I don't think."

Sighing dramatically, he just nodded and leaned back into the couch, leaving the scotch untouched on the coffee table. CJ wandered through the living room, again picking up her cigarettes and this time lighting one, inhaling the sweet scent of the smoke. Her eyes lingered on a picture of the twins and she stopped, touching their small faces with her finger. Toby watched her, seeing the pain of her own memories added to the pain she felt for David's children. And he let her to her silent thoughts for a while, knowing she would speak when she was ready. Whether she spoke to what was really on her mind or started talking about something completely random, he had no idea. But he wasn't going to push her either. He knew better than that. "Our child …" she sighed, "would be all grown up … was it really twenty years ago?"

"Just about." He watched her carefully. "You really would have been a good mom, CJ. Even if it means that life would have been a hell of a lot of different for all of us."

She chuckled, but her eyes weren't twinkling, and he knew she was feeling the punches all over again, the jutting of the door as she slammed into it, Naji's fists on her, the knife at her throat, the break in her ankle as she tried to run from him, tripping over her skirts and he wished, for the millionth time, that he had known her then, had been able to stop it from happening.

He felt, along with her, the searing pain of the miscarriage she'd suffered after leaving him to go to LA, feeling it like he had the first time she'd told him. Remembering the heartache of Andi's miscarriage – at least he'd been there for Andi. CJ had been alone. She looked at him. "What are you going to do when we're done, Toby?"

He processed her randomness, thinking, but the answer was right there, in front of him. "I think I have a Senate race in me yet."

She looked at him, shaking her head. "Toby …"

"Don't think about it right now. Right now you've got a country to run. Right now, actually, you need to sit down right here and talk to me. But I know what my plans are." He patted the couch and smiled again when she came to sit next to him. She chuckled a little bit and curled up into the corner of the couch, looking at the two glasses of scotch. Neither raised a hand to pick them up.

She moved closer to him, her feet across his lap and he was rubbing her arches through his socks. "Why do you wear those four inch heels?"

"Because they make my legs look fabulous."

"Your legs are already fabulous." Grinning over at her, he laughed as she puffed a breath of smoke in his general direction. "So what's the real reason?"

"I like heels, Tobus. They are strong they are sexy and damnit if I don't look fantastic in them." She grinned at him and reached over to stub out the cigarette, choking a bit on the lingering smoke.

"Yeah, you do look fantastic in them." He continued to rub her feet, sighing softly. "So, Cliff Calley?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Don't get me started on that smug, self-righteous –"

"And yet you hired him. How did you get him to say yes?"

"I told him the White House was like the mob. All family and responsible for even more death and destruction." She flashed him a grin and leaned back into the cushions some more. "I told him to show up tomorrow morning and deal with personnel, and that I'd see him in the afternoon and he was coming to Seattle."

"You think he'll show up?"

CJ looked at him. "It doesn't matter the man in the office – when the President asks you to serve, you serve."

"Well …" Toby grinned, knowing she was right. "So, you asked it before but never answered it. What do you want to be doing with yourself next year?"

Sighing, CJ looked at her hands, feeling the age. "Honest to God, I have no idea."

"If we get a Democrat into the White House, you know you'll have a seat at the table."

"Do I really want one?"

"Of course you do." He looked at her, seeing the answer in her eyes. "Of course you do. Because if you didn't you'd have walked away a long time ago. You accepted the promotion ---"

"The President of the United States asked me to serve."

"And you said yes. You want a seat at the table."

"Doesn't this go against everything we just said?"

"No. Because you do want a seat at the table. You want to make a difference. And you know I'm right. You couldn't be happy back into the private sector."

"I've thought about teaching." She said it, quietly, simply.

He looked at her, blinking, completely surprised. "Really?"

"We've been the Education Administration for eight years, Toby. Maybe it's time we lead by example."

"How's your dad, CJ?"

"That's not the point, Toby."

"I know. But …"

"It's only a thought. I'll probably take some time, get adjusted. The lawyers didn't eat up all of my money back during the MS investigation, so my portfolio is enough for me to live on for the rest of my life if I wanted to. I think I'm just going to take some time and try to get readjusted to not getting up at 4:30 in the morning."

"Yeah …" He looked at her, realizing again just how much she was out of his league and thinking that maybe Tommy was a better choice for her. So, he just started to rub her feet again, looking at her carefully though hooded eyes. Her mind wasn't really here, and it wasn't on the apartment in LA, or even on the twins, although her own eyes were fixated on the picture across the room. Right now she was in grad school. His fingers paused, tracing over the telltale scars on her ankle, only he knew where they were and he watched her flinch, involuntarily, at the touch. Privately, he wondered if he was still the only man she let touch her there.

"It's going to happen, Toby. The relations are going to be solidified, and to make sure we keep what we need, we're going to have to give them what they want, and that means giving in to the list of people we don't want back in this country." Her voice was heavy, lost, and he could only keep tracing the scars, over and over again. How a woman this powerful, this confident in everything could be reduced to something like this, after so long, mystified him.

"Yeah." He just agreed with her.

"We don't comment when women are killed anymore."

"Have we ever?" They both flinched at the tone in his voice.

"Talk about David to me."

"I don't want to." His fingers gripped around her ankle and she tugged her foot away, glaring a bit at him for breaking that sacred trust. Tugging her leg back into his lap, his fingers became gentle again as he tried to wipe away the mental bruising. "I don't want to," he answered her unasked question, "because tomorrow morning you're getting on a plane to fly to Seattle to deal with a budget meeting and then coming back here to deal with a list of people that State is willing to let into the country. Somewhere in there, you need to get Cliff Calley ready to go. So you're going to get up off of this couch and go to my bedroom and sleep."

"Toby …" She looked at him, her eyes wide. And he reached down and tugged her into a sitting position, pulling her into his arms and planting a kiss on the side of her head.

"Go to bed, Jeanie. I'll be in …" he paused … "If you want me to be …" Her arms tightening around him answered the question and he nuzzled at her neck. "Go on. Go to bed."

**To Be Continued …**

**Copyright 2005**


	4. Chapter 4

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Sawyer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills._

_A/N: I was reading a fic a while back, where Toby called CJ "Jeanie". And the idea stuck with me and I can't for the life of me remember the story, but I liked the nickname, so I'm using it and this is as close as I get to being able to credit her.) _

_Disclaimer 2: I never ever put a note like this in my stories, but since some people are sensitive to it – a lot of the chapters from this point on deal with some things that happened to CJ while she was in Qumar. And there's nothing graphic, but there are mentions of sexual and physical assault. And yes, these mentions are necessary to get to the end of the story, many many chapters from now. So, just fair warning to people._

**Part Four – Palm Reading**

**1986 New York City**

"God!" She curled up around him as he rolled off of her, snuggling close under the thick sheets that covered the couch pullout they shared more often than not lately.

"I'm starting to get an ego," he chuckled, taking her closer into his arms.

"You already have one." Snickering a bit, CJ just smiled into his shoulder and let her fingers dance across his body. "And for good reason."

"Thank you." Toby smiled into the darkness, loving the feel of her in his arms. It all felt so natural, they were so perfect together. So perfect. "You staying tonight?" He asked, hoping to God that she would.

Yawning, CJ looked over at the clock and just grunted her answer. How could she go anywhere this late? It wasn't safe and damn if she was going to try to find where her clothes were around this place. "Just don't let me sleep in tomorrow. I've got a meeting at 8."

"Why?" Something about the way she said it grabbed his attention.

"Because that's a normal time for having staff meetings." Rolling her eyes, CJ tried to snuggle back against his now tense body. "Toby, stop worrying. Please."

"They keep talking transfers …"

"And I don't want one. I like it here. Now stop it before I end up going home for the night." That got his attention and his arms tightened around her again. The last thing CJ remembered was his heartbeat against her own, and his lips brushing her forehead. But Toby stayed awake, watching her shadow in the dim light that came in from outside the small window. Something was changing, he could taste it in the air, and even if CJ refused to say anything, she knew it too. And it scared him. God above, it scared him. Taking her hand in his, he traced the lifeline on her palm, wondering if the old legends were real, and if two people who were meant to share a life, would share a lifeline. He loved tracing that long line on her palm, the one so similar to his own. It connected them.

"Daddy …" CJ chuckled into the phone, listening to the over protective voice on the other end. "Daddy, I'm not ready to get married."

"Claudia Jean …"

"Daddy, we're not having this conversation now." She sighed and glanced at the clock, "I have to finish getting dressed now, all right? I'll call you later this week. Kiss everyone for me." Her father pretended not to hear her, so she continued to yank on her nylons, strap on her sandals, and even try to fix her hair all while he yammered to her about why she should marry "that nice Jewish fellow". Finally, hearing the knock on her door, she just gave up. "Dad, I really have to hang up the phone now. I promise I'll call you tomorrow." Without giving him a chance to argue, she put the phone back on the receiver and hurried to the door, grinning as she opened it to see the best friend a girl could hope to have. "Anisah!"

"Ceej!" The two women embraced tightly. "Wow, you look amazing!"

"So do you." Stepping back, CJ allowed Anisah and her husband into the small apartment. "Hello, Abdul," she smiled warmly and kissed him on the cheek.

"You do look beautiful tonight, CJ." Abdul smiled back, bowing his head slightly to her.

"So where is this guy, Ceej?" Anisah crossed her arms playfully, "I'm starting to think he doesn't really exist."

"He's stuck at the office." CJ rolled her eyes. "Well, he was until about half an hour ago. He's on his way."

"I'm here." Came a gruff voice from the door. Toby rushed in, mumbling apologies in CJ's general direction.

"It's okay," CJ grinned, slipping her hand into his and turning him toward their guests. "Anisah, Abdul, this is Toby Ziegler."

Hugs and handshakes were exchanged and then Toby took a good long look at his girlfriend. "You look amazing, Jeanie." He smiled, watching her blush. Anisah grinned too; it had been a long time since she'd seen CJ so completely at ease and relaxed in the presence of any man, let alone one who wanted his hands all over her.

"Can we just go?" CJ laughed, "We're going to be late for dinner."

"By all means," laughed Abdul, "we can't let CJ go hungry." They all laughed when she rolled her eyes at him.

"Careful, I'll make you pay for dinner." She grinned, grabbed her jacket, and led them out of her apartment and toward the subway station.

"So you're the girl CJ spent the summer in Qumar with?" Toby looked at Anisah over the table, watching her reactions to his questions. CJ had never finished telling him the whole story about that summer and he wondered if he could get it from her. But it didn't take long to see that Anisah would be even more close-lipped than CJ.

"Yeah," the woman smiled, "it's actually where Abdul and I met. I dragged him back to the States with me."

"You did no such thing," he laughed. "I came quite willingly."

"Yeah, and promptly invaded my apartment," CJ teased right back. "He's the reason I won't live with men." She winked at Toby and kissed his cheek. "So blame him."

"I do." But Toby smiled and slipped his arm around the back of CJ's chair. He could tell by the set of her shoulders that even though she was having a wonderful time, her heart wasn't into the teasing. Something had happened there, something they all knew about and something none of them would talk about. It wasn't his place to interrogate them, it was his place to get to know CJ's best friend. And he liked Anisah, honestly he did, and Abdul seemed to be a decent guy.

CJ reached across him, snagging a piece of bread and tearing it apart. He watched her, and noticed Anisah and Abdul watching her too, and started to worry. What had happened over there? "So," she grinned at Abdul, "how is life in the computer world?"

"Fascinating," the man launched into a monologue about the strides Apple was making to bring computers to the general public at a truly inexpensive price.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Anisah watched as Toby and Abdul walked in front of them, talking about the politics of Arafat and how it was affecting the situation in Israel. So far, the conversation hadn't grown violent, the two men heartily disagreed, but were respecting each other for it.

"No …" CJ sighed, slipping her arm through Anisah's. "I just can't tell him. Every time I work up the courage, I just think about how it isn't important."

"It is important. He's the first guy you've let near you since …"

"I know." She chuckled a bit, "And it's surprising considering the way we actually became lovers." When Anisah raised an eyebrow, CJ just sighed. "Let's say that I didn't say no because, somehow, I knew that he wouldn't hurt me." Anisah looked at her, saw the amusement in her friend's eyes, but more than that, the love she held for the man who had actually stopped in the middle of the street to make his point. "Toby!" CJ called, laughing, "get out of the road!" The look he threw her made all of them laugh, and he jumped out of the way of a car before his point was marred by his death.

He chased back over to CJ, slipping his arms around her waist and grinning as she kept walking, tugging him along behind her. Anisah and Abdul followed close behind as they all headed back to CJ's apartment.

"She really loves you …" Anisah smiled as she sipped her coffee, speaking softly to avoid attracting CJ's attention from where she was talking animatedly on the phone with someone from the firm.

Blinking, Toby looked at the other woman, searching her deep brown eyes. "She's never said …"

"You should know by now that she's not one for saying things like that." Anisah shook her head. "Just, trust me, Toby. She loves you." The conversation ended abruptly as CJ hung up the phone and came back over to the rest of the group. Toby's eyes moved from Anisah to CJ, and he gently tugged her onto his lap.

He wondered sometimes how it happened, how her picture had made it into his small office, a small snapshot he'd taken of her in Central Park. She was laughing at something behind him, and the light glinted off her hair and the shot had been completely accidental, but he'd needed to take it and now it sat there, in a simple gold frame. Simple and elegant – just like her. He took the teasing about his girlfriend quietly, and had waited until the interns grew tired of asking about the mysterious CJ before he started having her meet him at the office for dinner, and before he started making calls to her during the work day. It helped to get him through the pages of work he needed to do when he could hear her soft sigh over the phone.

"What do you want to do tonight?"

"I have a stack of memos to read and a print that the interns screwed up to fix."

"That's what you have to do. I'm wondering what you wanted to do." He chuckled at her exasperated sigh.

"What I want to do has no bearing on what I have to do tonight, Toby."

"Yeah." This time, it was his turn to sigh. "Call me when you're done? I don't care how late it is."

"Sure." He could hear her smiling. That was enough to put a smile on his face.

"I'll talk to you later, Baby." His voice was a breath across the line before he hung up and tried to turn his attention back to public education initiates. But all he could think about was her hands over his, how she wrapped her long fingers around a wine glass, and the ring he'd seen in the store window at Tiffany's on his way to lunch today. He couldn't afford it. Hell, he couldn't even afford the dinner he was going to go grab in a few minutes, but he had to get it for her.

CJ stared at the phone for a minute, sighing softly. She could feel Toby's disappointment across the city, and, as much as she hated to admit it, shared it. But she had to get these done, and she had a deadline, and the promotion she wanted was going to fly out the window if she didn't get it done. Maybe, if she got it, they could afford an apartment together – a nice little one bedroom with a real bed and even a cable hookup. Not much, but a sense of family. Maybe, if she got this, they could actually start talking about marriage and she could go dress shopping with Anisah. Maybe, just maybe, she'd finally be able to put it all behind her and start over again. Maybe she'd finally have the courage to tell him she loved him. They spoke in glances and touches, despite their dealings in words, it was the silent communication that was the most powerful, and she knew that he loved her and she also knew that he knew she loved him back. But she wanted to say it, finally. And she wanted him to say it too. For a minute, she rubbed at the scar on her forehead, but the moment of fear passed when the interns appeared at her door, holding the latest print. Holding out her hand to them, she began to work again, her private musings left back in the recesses of her mind.

"God … Toby …" she moaned softly, arching her back as his tongue drove her closer and closer to the edge. Just as she teetered on the cliff, feeling the stars behind her eyes, he pulled back, changing pace and rhythm, pushing the envelope further, sending her higher and higher. Her fingers tightened in his hair, but he didn't notice and she didn't care, nothing mattered but this, as she sailed, finally over the edge, screaming his name as her entire body collapsed back onto the thin futon mattress. Her body, covered in a sheen of sweat and sex, trembled as he slowly moved up, intent on continuing his torturous love of her, and while she still trembled, whimpering for a moment to recover, he slipped a knee between her willing legs, spread them, and entered her easily, eliciting another moan and the pain of her nails digging into his back. And while she continued to tremble, he thrust in and out, sliding with her body, moaning as he poured himself into her and clinging tightly to her as he rolled to the side and pulled her into his arms and the blanket over their bodies. She snuggled up against him, still gasping, trembling, and aching. She was going to be so sore in the morning, but right now, she didn't care. In the dim light of the room, she traced invisible patterns on his bare chest, toying with the hair there, teasing his nipples, and suddenly she just knew. She had to tell him. And she sat up and looked into his eyes. "Toby."

He opened his eyes, knowing that this was important, and met her terrified blue gaze with his own. "What is it, Jeanie?"

Somehow, from somewhere, she pulled up the courage, knowing that in this moment he would always have her, even at her most vulnerable, shaking and trembling. "I was raped …" she said softly, looking down when she admitted it, ashamed, still, of the feelings. "That summer in Qumar."

He couldn't control his arms tightening around her, or the rage rising. "Oh my god …" he whispered, wondering now if all the times he'd pushed her against the desk … what about the time in his office, that first time … he wouldn't have even heard if she said no. "Oh God … CJ …Claudia …"

Shaking her head, CJ couldn't speak for a moment, overwhelmed by the soft use of her first name. He never called her that, ever, except in moments where not even "Jeanie" was fitting. In almost two years, she'd heard it twice. "Toby, it was a long time ago … but you've always wanted to know … and … I don't like to talk about it … it was the worst way to ruin a perfect summer … and I didn't tell anyone because I was an American girl in Qumar and according to Qumari law it was my fault and it wasn't worth doing anything here in America. So I let it happen and then I got on a plane and came back here and tried to forget about it and I didn't let any man touch me until you came along." There, she'd said it. The one thing she'd been scared to tell him.

His silence stretched longer than she had the strength to count her heartbeats. Somewhere after 200, she gave up, just looking at him, and the guilt crossing his face. "Why didn't you tell me?" He choked out, trembling, now scared to touch her. "Why didn't you push me off of you that day, and shout "No"! Why didn't you stand up for yourself!"

"I wanted you to touch me, Toby. I was scared, but I wanted you to touch me. I wanted you to be the one to make his hands go away. And I … I've discovered myself again here, with you." She looked at him, wishing now that she hadn't said anything, the guilt in his eyes overwhelming her resolve. "Toby … I wouldn't be here now if I hadn't trusted you then."

"Have you ever just let me … when you didn't want to? Because you thought you had to?" He couldn't stand the thought of her not being a willing participant. He couldn't stand the idea of some man overpowering her and forcing her against a wall or a bed and ignoring her screams. He couldn't bear the thought of those beautiful legs being forced apart to give way to some man who wanted to show his strength over her.

"No, Toby." She spoke honestly. "Please, stop the guilt. Please. It's over and done. You wanted to know about the scars, now you know. Please, stop the guilt, it's not what I need from you right now." Taking a deep breath, she looked back in his eyes, "I just need to hear that you love me as much as I love you."

The simple, yet painful, admission tore his heart and he pressed his lips to hers. "God, Claudia, God … yes, I love you. I'd move the world for you if I could. I love you." It was all either of them needed to hear and this time the kisses were gentle and tender and didn't lead to anything but holding each other, and silently promising each other forever.

Morning came with soft rays of sunshine pushing through the rain clouds that hovered over the city. Toby watched the light come through the window, still holding as tightly to CJ as he had been when they fell asleep, mid-kiss. Taking her hand in his, he traced her lifeline, eventually holding their hands together and trying to feel the life flowing between them. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't keep away the image of how she would have had to drag her broken body back to the States after having her soul ripped to shreds. He knew what that had to have done to her – she was strong and she was beautiful and she knows it now and she had to have known it then. And so, to counteract that feeling of terror, she'd become hard and sarcastic – always witty but the wall was hard to scale and even harder to break through. And now he knew why Anisah was so devoted to her, and he had a feeling that Abdul had a hand in saving her life. Somewhere, in the midst of his thoughts, Toby planned to thank the man personally.

"Penny." CJ looked up into his eyes and tried to smile teasingly.

"Eh, they aren't worth that much." Toby chuckled and kissed her gently. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Rolling out of his arms, she sat up and stretched, giggling as the sheet fell away from her naked body. Without making a move to fix it, she looked over at Toby, shy despite the lack of modesty.

He reached over, gently tracing the line of her breast, down toward her navel. "It's Saturday," he said with a smile. "Tell me that the only reason you're getting out of bed is to go to the bathroom …" The words were harder to say than he realized, he wanted to be able to trust himself to not hurt her. What if he did? What if something, anything hurt her? Why hadn't he realized it sooner?

She smiled a bit, reaching down for his t-shirt and pulling it over her head. "I think we can arrange that. But first and foremost, I have to pee." She grinned, trying to not meet his eyes, and face the guilt she still saw there. This was why she hadn't told him, this was why she was scared to let anyone get close. He now blamed himself, even though it was he who had been the one to break her free of her fears. But it was there, out in the open. And hopefully, hopefully he wouldn't ask any more questions. They didn't need questions; they didn't need to talk to communicate. They just needed each other. And she needed him to forgive himself for something he didn't do. But she knew better than that. It was why she had waited to tell him about those ten minutes in her life. The trip to Qumar had been amazing, and she'd gained lifelong friends from it. Ten whole minutes on the last day there had put a damper on it, but she couldn't dwell. At least, that's what the doctors had told her. _Don't dwell on this, Claudia. You're going to be fine, you're going to be able to move on quite nicely._

"CJ?" She looked over at the knock on the bathroom door and wondered just how long she'd been holed up in here, staring at her reflection.

"Sorry." Opening the door, she gave him a small smile and slipped into his arms, not minding that they tightened a bit around her. "Where's that book?" She asked, pulling away. "We should read some."

"You're scattered today." He watched her walk over to the bookshelf and pull out the tattered Shakespeare volume. The set of her shoulders was almost worrisome, she was here with him on some levels, but he could feel her starting to pull away. "CJ?"

"I'm fine, Pokey." Trying to smile, she looked back over her shoulder at him. "Romeo and Juliet or Macbeth?"

He couldn't help it. The laughter trickled from him as he walked across the small apartment to slip his arms around her. "You think, standing here, listening to your voice reading Shakespeare to me, that I'm going to choose anything but the greatest love story of all time?"

"And I'd think that you'd know better than to fall into that kind of a cliché." Grinning, she leaned against him and opened to the dog-eared play she'd read a million times over the course of her life. _Deny thy father and refuse thy name … _words echoed in her mind as she looked down, unseeing at the page she'd turned to.

"What play are you referring to?" Toby laughed, trying to get her back, fully, with him. "I was talking about Macbeth." It got the desired result. CJ dissolved, leaning against him while her body shook with laughter. Toby joined the laughter, holding her close. He had a million questions for her, but they would have to come later. Right now, it was about getting her back to him, back right here, in this small apartment in New York. The rest would come in its own time, and as she was ready to tell him. So he took the book, walked back toward the bed, and made some snide comment about how David could never appreciate his viewpoints on the world, especially Shakespeare, and that was the real reason that he didn't get along with his brother.

"Yeah, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he's the brains of the family?" She teased, settling down next to him and snagging the book from his hands, skipping through to the first page of Macbeth.

"If he were the brains of the family, he'd know that Macbeth was really a love story." Toby grinning and took the book back.

"You say that because you love politics so much."

"So do you." He chuckled as she wrinkled her nose. "Yes, you do. You just hate admitting it because if you do, you'll have to give into the guilt you feel for working in the private sector and you'll take a real job helping to change the world. And then you couldn't afford this apartment."

Silence descended over the room and she looked at him, eyebrow quirked, trying to get mad. But she lost the battle and in the end just dissolved into giggles. "I hate you when you're right."

Toby just laughed and he was glad to hear her laughing. It made him feel like it was really okay, him being here, in her space. And so he relaxed back across the futon, but his mind wasn't on the page in front of him, but on the friendship between her and Anisah and Abdul and he'd asked the question before he was able to stop his mouth from running away from him. "Abdul … is that how you met?"

CJ sighed softly and curled up next to him. "Yeah. He worked at the Embassy and he and Anisah had been making eyes at each other the while trip and he acted as our guide when we were out in the city and when …" she didn't say the name … "when things happened, he was there to get me out of the street at least. Now can we not talk about it anymore? Please."

"CJ …" he wondered if she'd ever talked about it. He didn't know what doctors did for women in this situation, but he did know that CJ would have just wanted to deal with it on her own.

"Toby," she took the book from him, "if you don't stop it, I'm reading from Twelfth Night. So shut up." The words teased him, but the tone was serious. She didn't want to talk about it. And Toby had his answer, and he had to respect it. So he took the book back, and opened to the first page of his favorite of the love stories.

"When shall we three meet again …" he began, looking back at his girlfriend. CJ met his eyes and smiled softly, asking silently to just leave the admission behind them. He knew now. He knew the reasons, if not every moment that had happened. He knew the important thing, and that was all he needed to know. She moved, putting her head on his knee, and closed her eyes, listening to his voice.

Outside, a chill wind blew through the streets of New York, but Toby snuggled under the warm covers with CJ, holding her close while he read.

To Be Continued …

Copyright 2005


	5. Chapter 5

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Sawyer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills._

_A/N: I was reading a fic a while back, where Toby called CJ "Jeanie". And the idea stuck with me and I can't for the life of me remember the story, but I liked the nickname, so I'm using it and this is as close as I get to being able to credit her.) _

_Disclaimer 2: I never ever put a note like this in my stories, but since some people are sensitive to it – a lot of the chapters from this point on deal with some things that happened to CJ while she was in Qumar. And there's nothing graphic, but there are mentions of sexual and physical assault. And yes, these mentions are necessary to get to the end of the story, many many chapters from now. So, just fair warning to people._

**Part Five – Countdown**

**1986 Los Angeles**

He raced through the corridors blindly, acting on the instinct that always pulled him toward her; the only thing louder than the beat of his heart was the constant echo in his mind. CJ. CJ. CJ.

Strong hands stopped him and he found himself looking into Tim's accusing eyes. "God … Tim …" he choked now, seeing CJ's entire family gathered in the small waiting room. Though the sea of faces he found Anisah and Abdul – lone allies in all of this. Tim let him go, still staring, accusing, and Toby tried, futilely, to catch his breath. Seven weeks since she'd taken the promotion, six weeks since he'd seen her last, since he'd helped her find her apartment here and then begged her to not take the job, four weeks since he'd told her, whispering into the phone in his bedroom that going to Qumar for this conference was a bad idea. Twelve hours since the phone call, Tim telling him that CJ had been flown back to the States early because she'd fallen ill at the conference. So now he looked to Anisah, begging her to tell him the whole truth. For some reason, he couldn't face CJ's father or brothers – his own guilt making him feel as if they blamed him for this … whatever this was.

"Come on, Toby." Anisah exchanged a look with her husband, who nodded quietly. "Let's get you a cup of coffee, okay?" Putting a gentle but direct hand on the other man's shoulder, Anisah guided her friend down the hall toward the vending machines.

"What?" He could barely form the word.

Anisah just sighed, "Toby, CJ …" she looked at the floor. "She told you about Naji, right?"

Feeling his temper rise, Toby nodded. "Yes."

"Well … Naji saw her and well … he felt that their business wasn't done yet … and …" she sighed.

Toby's jaw clenched, "He didn't touch her again, did he?"

"And start an international incident?" Anisah almost laughed at the irony of her statement. Almost. But her best friend in the entire world was lying alone in a hospital bed, aching with a pain that few in the world could hope to understand. "No, he just threatened her, scared the hell out of her, and forbade her from staying in touch with Hanan, now that his younger sister is married to some jerk …" she sighed again. "No, Toby, it was the plane ride back that was the problem …"

"What happened?"

Again, Anisah sighed. "Toby …" She didn't want to be the one telling him this.

"Ani, I swear to God, if you don't tell me what's wrong with CJ … !"

And in that moment, Anisah knew that Toby really didn't know, that CJ hadn't told him, just as she hadn't told anyone. "Sit down, Toby." When the man refused, she sighed and looked away for a moment, catching the eyes of her husband who had found his way down the hall to offer his support. "Toby … CJ …" taking a deep breath, Anisah prepared herself for the storm. "CJ had a miscarriage. She was almost ten weeks pregnant."

She'd been expecting a storm, the full force of the hurricane she'd come to know as Toby to come at her, his emotions making landfall right here in the hallway. What she got was the silence of the eye of the storm, confused rage bubbling around the edges, but sheer silence in the moment. Abdul stepped closer, ready to offer support to his friend.

"I need to see her." Toby whispered. "Please God, I need to see her." Now he understood. Tim's accusing eyes, Matthew's stony glare, and the angry silence coming from Tal. "Sweet God, let me see her."

"They –"

"It's been twelve hours. There isn't any reason … let me see her …" She'd been alone, aching, unable to reach him. Alone while she had to face that creep. Alone while she felt the loss of their child. She'd said she wanted to talk to him, but it would have to wait until she got back. This had been it. And now … his knees went weak. "For the love of God, why can't I see her?"

"She lost a lot of blood, Toby. She's going to be fine, but she needs to rest." Abdul's voice was soft, hesitant.

Trying to not hate Abdul for knowing more than he did, Toby shook his head. "No. Where is she?" He could feel the eyes of CJ's family all the way down the hall. They all knew now, all of them, what had happened. They all knew that he hadn't been there for her, but there was something else, something they knew that he didn't. "Now, Anisah

…"

"Toby …" she choked on his name, reaching out to stop him, "you can't! She doesn't know you're here. Tim called you, against her wishes. She doesn't want to see you."

His entire world exploded.

Minutes became hours. The hospital kicked them out when visiting hours ended – CJ still refused to see him and had apparently banned Tim from the room as well once she learned her brother had been behind the call. Toby let himself into her small apartment with his set of keys, and sighed, still thinking she belonged in his place back in New York. Everything here was perfectly CJ – simple, elegant decorations, the familiar art on the wall, her favorite picture of the two of them on the wet bar counter.

Her bedroom made the ache worse. He touched her suits, the bedspread, and stopped cold when he came across a piece of paper, a lab printout – the result of a pregnancy test. Positive.

Shaking, he picked up the paper, slowly tracing his fingers over the only evidence of their child. The date showed she'd know about this only a couple of days before she'd left. He knew she'd have wanted to tell him in person. It was just how she was.

One word: positive. A small life they'd created together. When? That night in Central Park when he'd rolled her back onto the blanket, her skirt riding up over her hips as they'd moved in time to the sounds from the nearby concert? Or the next morning when she'd surprised him with a fresh bagel from the deli down the street? Ten weeks. Maybe the time they'd let the candles burn to stumps while they made love over and over again on the rugs covering the hardwood of her apartment floor, or any of those times they'd both been late to work because he hadn't been able to keep his hands off of her. Each time from those past few weeks echoed in his memory – the night she told him she'd accepted the job in LA, the night he'd begged her, pleading, to stay. Any of those moments could have been the moment they became parents. He thought of signs, tried to place anything he could have noticed, but she'd moved to LA seven weeks ago, and if there was anything different, she hadn't told him.

And now, now it was over before it ever began. And he hadn't been there for any of it. And now, now she didn't even want him here.

He waited, holding his breath while the key turned in the lock. Anisah's soft voice came gently through the door, warning him. And when he saw her, Toby forgot to breathe. On the outside, she looked normal, but he could feel the loss inside, could sense the emptiness, and the way she looked at him with those dull eyes made this reality hit him all over again.

When she saw him, sitting there on her couch, like she knew he would be, she didn't know what to say, how to even greet him. How could he look at her like that, so loving and accepting when she'd lost their child? How could he still love her when she'd failed him so terribly? And he was holding that damned report, that piece of paper that meant her life was never going to be the same again. She felt the fight leaving her, but she couldn't face him either.

"I've got it from here, Anisah." He said softly. And when CJ didn't argue, the other woman just nodded, hugged her best friend, and slipped out of the apartment. Toby moved over, starting to help CJ to the couch. "Hey." he said quietly, reaching out to at least touch her shoulder. When she winced at the contact, he pulled back.

"Hey." Refusing to make eye contact, CJ just started at the now abandoned lab printout. The only evidence, save for the scarring in her uterus, that they'd ever had a child.

"You need anything?" He needed to reach her, somehow. God, CJ, he pleaded, talk to me.

YOU! She wanted to scream. Just hold me! But instead she just shook her head. "I'm just tired, Toby. I think I should go lie down." Pushing herself away from him, she limped to the bedroom and closed the door behind her, only then allowing the silent tears to come, letting the humiliation wash over her.

Outside, Toby sat, and waited.

The creak of the doorknob jolted him awake and he looked over to see her standing in the doorway to her bedroom, her arms wrapped around herself. "The couch is uncomfortable, Toby …" she almost whispered, "you don't have to hide out here …"

"I didn't want to push you …" he hadn't moved, save for opening his eyes and turning his head to face her. "You didn't even want me here …" He tried, and failed, to keep the hurt from his voice.

"Toby … just … come to bed and you can grumble and yell at me there. But I just need you to hold me right now."

Her saying the words melted the ache in his heart – well, mostly. But before his next breath she was in his arms and he was carrying her back to the bed, snuggling down next to her under the covers, and holding her tightly while they both cried themselves to sleep.

Dawn broke, bathing her in soft, perfect light, showing him all of his failures. Today the gentle light only emphasized that even in the few weeks they'd been apart, the distance was too great to bridge. Dawn broke today with her across the room, staring at the sheet of paper, dawn broke with her not in his arms even though they were together.

"I'm sorry." CJ's voice had lost something since the last time they'd talked, when she'd promised to kiss Anisah for him.

"It's not your fault, CJ …" sleep clouded his brain, but he knew what she was referring to. He didn't understand how she could blame herself when he had that area covered.

"Yes, Toby …" sighing, she looked at him, her hazel eyes full of tears. "I … I wanted to get an abortion anyway. I just … a baby now … with us on opposite sides of the country … I wanted an abortion. I sat there on that plane, wondering how I could tell you … if I'd do it … I…" tears spilled down her cheeks. "That's why I didn't want you at the hospital. I hadn't ever told you about the baby, and already it was gone."

"God … CJ …" Out of bed and at her side, he could only slip his hands into hers. "CJ, Baby, it isn't your fault. It …" Her crumpling of the test stopped him. Her perfect aim sent the ball of paper sailing into the wastebasket. "Jeanie?"

"No, Toby. It can't … just … go back to New York. Please." She wouldn't look at him anymore. She couldn't. "Go back to New York and change the world. I'll stay here and change … something. Anything …" CJ also knew he wouldn't go, and it was why she said it to him, and he knew it. And the words got the desired effect. His temper exploded as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her and told her he loved her and that it didn't matter anymore now. All that mattered was that she was okay and that they were together right now, and that any decisions they would have made weren't worth worrying about because someone else had made the choice. It didn't matter; it was okay.

But for CJ it wasn't okay, and even if he tried to tell her that it was, it wasn't. It couldn't be. It never would be. Nothing would ever be the same again. She'd never wanted children, but now, now that they told her the scarring was bad enough that she'd probably never conceive again, now that it wasn't even a choice, she couldn't do this to him. He wanted children, she knew that. She knew how good of a father he would be and she couldn't give it to him anymore. She had already proved that she couldn't even carry a child, and now she couldn't conceive one. And as he rocked her, trying to calm himself more than her, as she held onto him as tightly as he held onto her, she knew she had to send him back to New York for the final time. He needed to find someone he could have that full life with. She just wasn't that woman. And as she clung to him, wanting nothing more than to listen to the words she'd manipulated out of him, she knew that she had to break both of their hearts. She couldn't keep that promise she'd made to herself just those few weeks ago, the silent promise to never leave his arms. She couldn't stay with him forever, not when she was only half a woman.

To Be Continued …

Copyright 2005


	6. Chapter 6

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Sawyer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills._

_A/N: I was reading a fic a while back, where Toby called CJ "Jeanie". And the idea stuck with me and I can't for the life of me remember the story, but I liked the nickname, so I'm using it and this is as close as I get to being able to credit her.) _

_Disclaimer 2: I never ever put a note like this in my stories, but since some people are sensitive to it – a lot of the chapters from this point on deal with some things that happened to CJ while she was in Qumar. And there's nothing graphic, but there are mentions of sexual and physical assault. And yes, these mentions are necessary to get to the end of the story, many many chapters from now. So, just fair warning to people._

Chapter Six: Ticking Clocks Washington, DC 2005 

The buzzing of the alarm invaded his senses, and he cringed, reaching across the bed to slam it off. His bare arm brushed across a piece of paper and he paused, reaching for it, laughing before he even read it because he knew what it said.

The Chief of Staff can't sleep in until 6. I'll see you at the office and I'm sending the new guy in my place to Seattle. Remember to check the wires before you get in. C

He'd heard her get up, and had pretended to be asleep while she showered and hunted around the back of his closet for one of the three suits she always kept here – just in case. And when he made it downstairs, there was coffee sitting in the coffee pot and she'd set out a bagel for him, and his laptop was already up and pointing to the wire server. He knew that she knew he wouldn't check the wires unless ordered to. It delayed every thing else he had to do – even if he was now in charge of that aspect of the communications department as well . And just like CJ had done every day that she'd been Press Secretary, he praised Carol for her abilities to find the real stories and highlight them. But he still had to have an idea of what was going on, so while he downed the coffee and bagel, he checked the wires and found only the usual smattering of gloom and doom in the world. And piece caught his eye, and he stopped, choking on his bagel. It was going to be a long day.

"Cliff, I need you on this trip because you understand the Republican point of view," CJ walked her new deputy down the hall, pointing out a few little things he'd need to remember. "I also have no head for the economics of a situation like this, and it's something you've already researched. So you're going." He didn't argue, which meant that he'd accepted the order, but she also knew he didn't like being thrown into something this important this quickly. But she really didn't have the time to go – and this was a perfect chance for him to get to know the President and the rest of the staff. "You're going to spend a good deal of the day with President Bartlet, working with him on the finer points of the summit and Will Bailey is also going to be on the trip – that will help to break you in. Any other questions?"

Cliff just looked at his new boss and shook his head. It was an honest answer – he really didn't have any questions, he was still too stunned to process everything she was telling him. But he did know for sure that wheels up on Air Force One was in about four hours and he still had to get his files ready for the summit. CJ was right, he knew more about this kind of thing than she did, but it didn't make today any easier. Before he could voice any questions, she was already retreating down the hall, having been snagged by both Margaret and Nancy. At least, he thought the blonde's name was Nancy.

"Good morning," she breezed past both Toby and Charlie, glancing between them briefly. It was an hour before she'd scheduled staff. "Someone go first," she said, not looking up at all.

Toby shifted on his feet, indicating for CJ's special assistant to speak first. He didn't want to be the one bringing the news he had and maybe if he let Charlie go first, the floor would open up and swallow him whole. But Charlie's news wasn't anything spectacular, just some things CJ would need to know about before Staff, and then she would just pass them right back to the assistants office. And before the floor could swallow him, Toby was standing there, alone, with his … what were they now? Two nights together over the past couple of weeks didn't exactly reclassify them as anything, but there had been something different in the way she'd cried his name last night. He hadn't heard that tone since those days in his apartment in Manhattan.

"Toby, what is it? I have a military briefing that you're holding up." She sighed, looking at him, her eyes far more tender than her tone. She didn't want to kick him out, but she had to focus while she was here, and right now their emotional roller coaster was something she needed to leave at the White House gates.

"Qumari television is celebrating the announcement of a new Attaché to the United States."

"_It is fun? Walking around here thinking that you're better than everyone?"_

Closing her eyes, she nodded. "This wasn't a surprise, Toby, we knew it was coming. His name was on their short list and on the list of people we had to get the State Department to approve. I'll just deal with it." She wanted to slit her wrists rather than deal with the story. "As long as no one gets wind of my personal connection to the man, we're fine."

"_I dare you to try to run now, Claudia. Isn't that what you do – dare each other?"_

"How long do you think that will happen?" He moved around to her side of the desk and sat on the corner, reaching to stroke her cheek and tried to not be affected when she automatically flinched. He couldn't believe this was happening. She could have put her foot down, screamed that the man was a rapist and should be thrown in jail for life, not be given diplomatic credentials. But she'd never spoken up about what he'd done to her, and he couldn't blame her. Except now, she would have to stand in the same room with him, and work with him, and have to maintain her own sense of sanity.

"Who knows? Perhaps we're making too much of this." She took a shaky breath.

"_How far do you think you can run with your ankle like that?" She screamed as he stepped down on it again._

"Toby, it was over twenty years ago, he's probably forgotten all about what he did to me and by now I should have forgotten too. I've moved past it, anyway. So let's just continue on with running the actual business of the nation. I have a briefing to get to."

"Well, you're good to go. Really, remember what I said. I wouldn't make too much of this, Claudia. It won't be worth pressing charges – it's a different country, a different culture. You can't be flaunting those long legs of yours around to the natives. Just move on with your life. You're on your way to being a successful woman. Don't ruin it by making a big deal of this."

Opening her eyes again, they locked gazes for a moment before he leaned down to kiss her softly. The chaste kiss made them both understand exactly what they were again, and it at least eased their minds – for a little while. No matter what, they would be together at the end of the day.

"I'll see you in staff," Toby whispered.

"I'll see you in hell."

"Yes." Unable to even muster a smile, she gently nudged him off her desk and then returned to the work she was trying finish before her briefing.

"The health care initiative isn't going to sail without some kind of gag rule in place."

Forcing herself to look past the red light behind her eyes, CJ just sighed. "Are we rolling back everything then? Last I checked, the court hadn't repealed Roe Vs. Wade." She tried really hard to not throw a glare in Cliff's direction.

"What if I'm pregnant, Ani? What if I'm … what if he … oh my God, what if he got me pregnant!"

"Don't blame me for the idiocy of my party, CJ."

She couldn't help but give him a short laugh. "All right." She shook her head, "We can't let it go forward with anything but language that allows all forms of conversation at the clinics. If they're going to talk adoption, they need to talk abortion as well and I'm not going to tell millions of women that their right to choose is in name only. Cliff, take that back to the Hill with you. Toby, wave the press off the scent of it. We don't need the debate quite yet. Does anyone have anything else?" When silence greeted her question, she waved them all out to the chorus of "thank you, CJ". She had three minutes before her meeting with the Secretary of Energy, a meeting she wasn't really looking forward to. Toby lingered at the door, but she refused to look at him, she couldn't right now. For these few minutes she needed to be Tommy's girlfriend again, at least until they could set up a time to have dinner when she could break it off with him.

After standing, looking at her for a moment, Toby nodded and walked out. He understood her silence, and would let her have it. For now, at least. When he was gone, CJ put the pen down and leaned into the soft back of her chair, wishing that this was someone else's worry.

"_CJ! CJ! God, CJ, what did … what happened? CJ, CJ can you hear me?"_

"CJ?"

"Yeah?" She looked up at Margaret.

"The Secretary of Energy."

"Thanks." Standing and brushing out her skirt, she smiled as Tommy came into the room. They shook hands, ever the professionals, and he declined when Margaret offered him something to drink. Once the door shut behind the redhead, Tommy pulled CJ into his arms.

"Hi," he whispered before kissing her gently.

It was so easy to want to respond. But just his touch made her step back, feeling the sudden urge to shower. It wasn't him, but when she looked into Tommy's eyes, she could only see the reflection of her own panic.

"Welcome back, Claudia. It's a good thing you're as strong a girl as you are, you're going to heal up just fine. Get some rest and I'll have a nurse check on you in a bit."

"Tommy …" she pulled away, "come on, we should get some work done, all right?" Moving back behind her desk where it was safe, she ignored the look on his face. He knew, without her even saying it, that she was breaking up with him.

"Here's the full proposal on the nuclear waste package that you wanted." Sighing, also slipping back into professional mode, he tried to not be hurt by her actions. He wasn't surprised. CJ's job came first and she'd admitted a long time ago that she wasn't sure she could balance their relationship and her job.

"Thanks." She opened it, skimming through the first couple of pages of the table of contents. "All right, I'll read this over and make final recommendations before we send it back to D.O.E. and the bill-writers for the official proposal."

"How long?"

"It will be back in your office by morning." She looked at him, "You know this won't sail before the election. Is it worth it to even try?"

"The waste has to go somewhere, CJ."

"True." She sighed again and closed the briefing book, listening while he gave some pointers on the best way to deal with the energy crisis facing the country. The Bartlet Administration had done far better than any of the other administrations in dealing with the dependency on foreign oil and pushing forward new sources of renewable energy, but it still wasn't enough. Something still had to be done, and a Republican Administration wasn't the way to go for that. "Anyway …" she said after he was done, the professional façade slipping away. "Dinner tomorrow night?"

"Yeah," he leaned forward, trying to be hopeful, "dancing after?"

_I should make you dance for me. Do American girls know how to dance properly?_

She jumped without meaning to. "What?"

"Dancing, after …" he knew that no matter what, she'd still be breaking up with him. "So we can at least end this as friends."

"Tommy … not here …" But she smiled gently at him. "We'll talk tomorrow night over bad pizza and cheap wine. But yeah … friends."

It's too bad you seem to think that your kind and my sister's kind can be friends, Claudia. Claudia, a fittingly ugly American name for an ugly American woman. They should teach you about a woman's place in the world."

"Friends is good, CJ. You know how I feel." Tommy gave her a quirky grin and stood up, "I'll call you tomorrow to confirm things. Have a good one."

"Thanks. And I'll get the notes on this back to you by morning." She stood to walk out with him, doing her best to keep her distance. If she touched him again, she just might crumble.

"Yes, Claudia. Just touch me."

"CJ? CJ?" The cry echoed down the deserted hallway of the dorm. "Claudia Jean Cregg! Where are you!" The soft whimper in response went unheard as Anisah careened down the hallway of the dorm at the Embassy in Qumar. She knew that CJ had left with Naji after the party, and Hanan had told her what a bad idea it was. But CJ hadn't been planning to do anything – in fact, she'd asked for a couple of their friends to come with – but then they'd disappeared. Now she couldn't .. a moan caught her attention. "CJ?" She turned, raced back toward the dorms next to hers and CJ's and stopped short. The half open door wasn't just ajar, but was being propped open by the bloody body of her closest friend. "Oh, Sweet Allah, CJ." Falling to her knees, Anisah gently tilted her friends face to her own, looking carefully at her bruised eyes. "I'm right here, Ceej. I'm right here. We need to get you down to the infirmary. God, did he do this to you? Oh my God. Come on … we'll get you cleaned up."

A weak, broken hand fell on top of her own. "Can't …" came the hoarse whisper. "Can't …"

"You need medical help, CJ." Flipping on the light to get a better perspective, Anisah just gasped in horror. CJ's dress was torn in all the wrong places and she was bleeding from what were obviously shallow knife cuts. Her left ankle was the size of a grapefruit, clearly broken, and swelling by the second. There was no way she was going to be able to get her down there by herself. "Hold on, CJ. Hold on. I'm calling for someone. You're going to be okay. I promise. I promise."

"And the new Qumari Attaché will be here in three days for official –"

"_We need someone up here in dorm 335. Please, hurry. It's an emergency …" Anisah looked over at her friend again. "It's okay, CJ, someone's coming … Yes! 335 Get up here now! With …"_

"There's nothing official about Attaché's." CJ muttered under her breath. "It's our way of saying 'we refuse to give you Ambassador status because your country sucks, but because we still buy oil from you, we're going to go ahead and keep talking to you."

Margaret just eyed her boss, "And I'm switching you to decaf."

For a minute CJ looked at the redhead, daring her to mean it, and then both women just started laughing. "All right, I'll relax." She sighed a bit and waved Margaret to a seat, focusing on the business of the nation that she had to help run, already dictating the letter the White House would be sending to State. "Send that off once you're done with it so we can clear up any language."

"Yes, Ma'am. Anything else?"

"Get out of here early tonight." She smiled. "I know I want to."

"By early you mean?"

"Midnight." She laughed. "I need the updated notes I left for you with the energy package that Tommy dropped off. Make sure I keep the copy and that the originals make it back into his hands. I need one of the messengers to take care of that before the close of business over at D.O.E."

"Yes, Ma'am." Margaret stood, slightly unsteady on her feet, and slipped back out into her office.

"_I'm right here, Ceej. Right here."_

"_Where .." she blinked against the harsh lights above her. "Where …?"_

"_You are in the infirmary," came a soft, thickly accented voice. Male. She tensed and tried to edge to the other side of the bed, and only screamed in pain as fire shot through her leg. "It is all right, Ms. Cregg," the voice came again. "You are going to be all right. My name is Abdul, and I am one of the assistants here."_

"_CJ, really, it's okay." Anisah appeared in her line of vision now – a blur to her swollen eyes. "Really, you're okay. Your ankle is broken in about three places though, and your hand too, but you'll be okay." Her voice caught. Did CJ remember everything?_

"_I hurt …" CJ whimpered, trying, and failing to reach for her friend. "It hurts …" It hurt all over, her lower body ached with a fire she'd never thought possible to feel. "It hurts …" what had happened to her? "Did I fall?" She managed to whisper._

_A flash of hope raced through Anisah's heart. Maybe, just maybe CJ wouldn't remember what had happened to her. "Sort of, honey. Just try to rest. I'm right here, and the doctor will be in soon." _

"_I need to take your –" Abdul stopped when he watched CJ tense just at the sound of his voice. "I'm going to bring a nurse in," he said softly. "And Doctor Keller will be in shortly."_

"_Thank you, Abdul," Anisah whispered. No, CJ did remember. She just didn't want to._

CJ stared at the clock and wondered how on earth the day could have moved this quickly, and she still had her dinner meetings and wanted to try and call Tim today. He'd been in Dayton with their father for the past week, and it wasn't going well. Time was slipping by too fast for all of them. After checking, out of habit, to see where the First Family was, she looked back at the pile on her desk and decided that now was as good a time as ever to call her brother and check on her father. She didn't need to think about Qumar or Senate races, or that damned book that was going to ruin her career forever. She just needed to feel like a little girl again, but when she heard the exhaustion in her older brother's voice, she knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon. "Hey, Tim. What's up?"

To Be Continued …

Copyright 2005


	7. Chapter 7

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Sawyer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills._

_A/N: I was reading a fic a while back, where Toby called CJ "Jeanie". And the idea stuck with me and I can't for the life of me remember the story, but I liked the nickname, so I'm using it and this is as close as I get to being able to credit her.) _

_Disclaimer 2: I never ever put a note like this in my stories, but since some people are sensitive to it – a lot of the chapters from this point on deal with some things that happened to CJ while she was in Qumar. And there's nothing graphic, but there are mentions of sexual and physical assault. And yes, these mentions are necessary to get to the end of the story, many many chapters from now. So, just fair warning to people._

_Book excerpts from The Cat's Eye written by Margaret Atwood, published 1989._

Chapter 7: The Distance to Here 

**Los Angeles, CA**

**1986**

"_Dear Toby,_

Maybe I'm chickening out by doing this in a letter, but I can't trust myself to speak right now.

_I'm sorry. It's only been a week since I sent you back to New York, and I know now that it is the biggest mistake of my life. And I know that you are hurting too, and I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry._

_Seeing you just ... Toby, I can't put into words the guilt that I feel. And seeing you brought this wall up. I'm so busy blaming myself for this that I just can't let you love me right now. If I could, I'd be there in New York. And I do know that it was a mistake to send you back. _

_I love you, Toby. I love you so much that I loose myself just at the slightest touch and I can't afford to loose that kind of control right now. That's why I sent you back. I have to focus on saving my career, moving on, and being the woman that a professional woman is supposed to be. But I love you._

_Please, if you can ever forgive me for wanting to abort our child, for loosing our child … you know where I am._

_All my love,_

_Jeanie_

"Well, CJ, you're healing well, at least physically." Her doctor gave her a soft smile as she came back into the room after CJ had finished dressing again. "How are you handling it, though?"

"How am I supposed to be handling it?" She tried not to lash out at the other woman.

"Women obviously deal with miscarriages in a lot of different ways. I just want to make sure that you're okay, and that you are allowing yourself to grieve. Your body has gone through a lot – and I don't just mean this – and women from both our generations are just supposed to suck it up and be a superhero. It's really not fair, or good for us. So, really, are you all right?"

_No!_ CJ wanted to scream. _I'm not!_ _My life was taken from me twice in Qumar! How do I deal with that!_ "I think I'll be okay. Really. Thanks, doc."

The doctor looked at her patient and frowned. No, really, this one wasn't okay. "CJ, did you ever receive counseling after your rape?"

She blinked. "What?"

"After you were attacked – a time where your medical care was actually not the best, by the way – after you were attacked did your doctor refer you to a counselor?"

_No. He unraveled all my years of education, reinforced that it was all my fault, and then sent me on my way._ "No, but in Qumar …"

"In the States there are plenty of counselors, though. I'm going to give you the name of a woman who can help you with the fallout of both of these tragedies. Seriously, I think it would do you some good to have someone to talk to." The doctor wrote out the name and then smiled, handing the paper over to CJ. "Good luck, Claudia Jean." CJ just nodded and started at the number.

The phone was ringing when she got home and she lunged for it, praying it would be who she wanted it to be. "CJ Cregg."

"I'll always love you too, you know."

4 Years Later – June 1990 

She searched the crowd at LaGuardia for that familiar head of curly hair and a smile lit her eyes. He hadn't changed – no, he had. He was thinner now and there was less hair on top of his head, but the beard was thicker and it looked good on him. The picture he'd sent of him at David's wedding hadn't done him justice.

God she looked amazing. She hadn't had any weight to loose, and yet somehow she seemed trimmer. Her long hair was shorter now, and styled into a loose perm. The curls trailed down toward her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. Those damned blue eyes caught his soul and he just smiled. "Jeanie!" He never shouted, and he knew that she'd seen him already, but he needed to call her name.

"Tobus!" Laughing, she dropped her bags and let him sweep her into an embrace that literally took her off her feet. Their lips met mere seconds later and she wondered how on earth she'd lived without this very part of herself. Four years since they'd been this close to each other – and it was as perfect as it had always been.

When he finally let himself pull back for a breath of air, he reached for her garment bag while she again picked up her carry-on. "Is this all you have?"

"Yeah. Since I'm only here until Tuesday morning." She slipped her hand into his – wondering where the past four years had gone. There had been others for both of them – she was still washing the scent of her most recent mistake out of her sheets. But this, this was perfect. Why had she pushed him away?

The door to his apartment wasn't even locked before he pushed her roughly against the wall, pinning her arms above her head as he attacked her mouth with a savagery that frightened him for a moment. He didn't want to force her, to push her, and when he pulled back and saw her flushed cheeks and wide eyes, he released one arm and stroked her cheek, softening. But in her eyes, he also saw trust, and he knew that she wanted him to take her, to reclaim her as his, and so he captured her mouth again and slid one leg between her own and like he had six years ago, took her right there against the wall, her skirt up around her waist, his own pants just unzipped. And he knew that his zipper chafed her, and he knew that her own climax was as powerful as his.

"God …" she whispered as he pulled out and smoothed her skirt down. She just kicked her panties out of the way and moved over to the futon, leaving a trail of clothes in her wake. Toby watched her, growing hard again as she reclined against the old mattress, only wearing a smile and the come hither look he'd fallen in love with so long ago. He approached her slowly, keeping her gaze with his own until he was on top of her, naked and pressing into her forcefully, unable to tame the urge of claiming her, of letting her know that she wasn't going to get away so easily this time. And again the sex was hard and forceful and he actually bruised a nipple when he bit down as he came. She cried out and trembled under him and while he coaxed her down from their mutual high; he kissed at the bite marks on her breast and murmured apologies into her alabaster skin.

CJ whimpered slightly as his lips covered her swelling nipple. But his tongue licked gently, soothing the pain. His apologies were in the kisses on the sensitive skin and in how his fingers stroked across her stomach. Someday she'd be able to get it through his thick skull that with him she didn't mind it rough. She trusted that even if she ended up with a small bruise or two, that he'd never actually hurt her. Ever. But she let him lathe attention on her breasts and gently stroked her fingers through the curls at his neck. And when he finally looked up at her, his eyes a cloudy mixture of desire and longing and apology, he leaned up to kiss her again, murmuring "I love yous" against her lips as he again took her body underneath his and this time the love was gentle and healing and they slept afterward, wrapped tightly around each other.

He watched her dress for the party, knowing that she was teasing him as she pulled the thigh high stockings up her legs. Still needing to finish dressing himself, he just walked over to her and fastened the stockings into place with the delicate garter clasps. And then he turned her so her hands could grip the chair and he pushed her panties aside and he took her right there, sliding into her and controlling the movements of her hips with his hands. At a party full of political types and lecherous businessmen, they would know that she was his - at least for tonight and the weekend. And then Monday she would go into the New York EMILY's list office for a tally of the funds raised and meet with the political director and setup a new strategy for LA and then on Tuesday morning she would leave him again. He knew that when her feet hit the ground again in LA, she would no longer be his but would move on to steal the heart of the next man who dared to look into those deep, perfectly blue eyes. But how many men actually ventured into the depths – how many broke past the wall and learned of the secrets she hid behind the sparkle that never left her eye. How many dared?

"Toby!" She cried his name, begging for release.

He knew none of them would even try, would even dare. He had been the first, and he had learned that once a person ventured down into the pools of her eyes that there was no coming back. He would always be hers, no matter where in the country they found themselves. And he would find another woman, and he would always be thinking of CJ while he made love to someone else. "Jeanie …" he moaned, loosing himself in the movements. She climaxed around him, her knees buckling, and he caught her and held her against his body. He'd never let her fall.

"Step away from the bar."

He chuckled and handed her a manhattan. "Not fair."

"No. And you hiding over here isn't either. Come on, there are a few people I want you to meet and then you can come back here and sulk. But I didn't slave away to help Amy put this fundraiser together only to have you hide in the back. You're going to be working with some of these people eventually, Toby. You need to mingle."

"I don't mingle. That's why I have you."

"Toby." There was no room for argument in her voice and he sighed and followed her over to a small circle of men and women. CJ touched the arm of someone and smiled as the tall redhead turned and smiled. "Andi, this is the man I was telling you about. Toby, this is Andrea Wyatt. She's running for City Council in Baltimore."

He couldn't take his eyes off the woman. CJ was standing less than a foot from him, and he couldn't stop staring at this beautiful woman with amazing green eyes. "Toby Zeigler," he murmured, shaking her hand, "and good luck in Baltimore. You'll need it."

"Toby!"

Andi just laughed. "No, he's being honest, for which I totally respect him. And I do need the help, which is why I'm up here tonight."

CJ conceded the point with a chuckle as she took a sip of her manhattan. Toby was still watching Andrea, and it unnerved her. He wasn't hers to claim anymore, no matter the antics that had been taking place in his apartment since she came to town, but she was also standing less than a foot from him. He could at least take his eyes off of Andrea. Suddenly she felt plain again, and took a step back, smoothing her dress down over her flat stomach. Andrea was curvier, and her hair was a natural red, and she knew already that her temper was a perfect match for Toby's. Toby would find no reasons for guilt with Andrea. She took another step back, and allowed herself to be caught by one of the senators from New York. It was easier than she thought to turn her back on Toby and the eyes he didn't realize he was making at Andi Wyatt. Suddenly Tuesday couldn't come fast enough. She knew that look on Toby's face.

This time at least he managed to lock the door before pushing her up against it, and this time her hands were as hungry as his. She needed to make sure he'd remember her, her, not that redhead he'd spent the rest of the night talking to. And this time her kisses were hungry and demanding and this time her dress stayed on while she dropped to her knees, pulling him from his pants, and sucked him off while his fingers tugged too hard in her hair. But when he tumbled her to the bed, he was again in control and she let him undress her and take his agonizingly slow time with her body. At least here they were completely, fully together.

"What are you reading?"

Dawn had broken with her in his arms and after the room was full with natural light and she was sure she couldn't sleep anymore, CJ had pulled aside and reached for the book she'd brought on the trip. Since leaving New York the first time, she hadn't been able to pick up an Anne Rice novel, so her time was now spent scouring Margaret Atwood and Toni Morrison.

"Cat's Eye. Margaret Atwood's new book."

"Page one." He said, smiling. It was an old game of theirs, to randomly choose a page of the book the other was reading, and have it read. And when she started reading, chills crept up his spine. How could this woman be able to describe their relationship so perfectly?

"Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. If you can bend space you can bend time also, and if you knew enough and could move faster than light you could travel backward in time and exist in two places at once."

If he could travel back in time … he could save her from that miscarriage. He could save her from Naji.

"It was my brother Stephen who told me that, when he wore his raveling maroon sweater to study in and spent a lot of time standing on his head so that the blood would run down into his brain and nourish it. I didn't understand what he meant, but maybe he didn't explain it very well. He was already moving away from the imprecision of words." CJ had read this first page over and over again when she'd picked up the book, feeling the words literally slap her, feeling herself slide back through time, back past her time in New York and back past college and back to sitting in the living room with her older brothers while they talked about math and science and argued around her in phrases she didn't understand. But she had listened attentively to every word, every number they had uttered. Better that than listen to her mother's cries of pain as the cancer ate her alive. Better that than listen to her father talking to yet another new girlfriend – they'd come along so quickly after her mother's death. Reading this she slipped back, listening to her father's excitement over math and telling her why she should feel passionate, even if she didn't always understand it.

Toby's hand moved up her bare back as she read, his fingertips barely grazing her spine.

"But I began to think of time as having a shape, something you could see, like a series of liquid transparencies, one laid on top of another. You don't look back along time but down through it, like water. Sometimes this comes to the surface, sometimes that, sometimes nothing. Nothing goes away."

His fingers paused at the small of her back and then continued their up and down motion on her spine. "The page you are on." Could she feel the shivers in his body as she read?

"I knew this woman must have been a girlfriend, or an ex-girlfriend, and I was furious with her. It didn't occur to me that she might have reason. I hadn't yet encountered the foreign hairpins left in the bathroom like territorial dog pee on snowy hydrants, the lipstick marks placed strategically on pillows. Jon knew how to cover his tracks, and when he didn't cover them it was for a reason. It didn't occur to me that she must have had a key." CJ shivered suddenly, wondering what she would find if she went searching in Toby's bathroom. Closing her eyes briefly, she could still see the way he was looking at Andrea. What would happen the next time she came out to New York? Who would have a key then? Who had one now? " 'She's crazy,' I said. 'She should be in a bin.' I did not pity her at all. In a way I admired her. I admired her lack of compunction, the courage of her bad manners, the energy of simple rage. Throwing a bag of spaghetti had a simplicity to it, recklessness, a careless grandeur. It got things over with. I was a long way, then, from being able to do anything like it myself."

Toby took the book from her, closed it, and closed his lips over hers. It was too close, too personal. They didn't need to keep playing the game. And it wasn't until she was gasping his name as he worked his lips over her sex that he started to wonder exactly what game they were playing.

She sighed for at least the tenth time since taxi and takeoff. She'd never get used to coach seats, and at the moment she still couldn't afford first class tickets.

"Either you're having the same problem I'm having, or you'd rather just get off the plane. Either way, I hope it's not because I smell or something."

CJ blinked and looked over at the voice, the other passenger in her row. At least he had the aisle seat and could stretch his legs a bit more, but one look told her he definitely had the same problem that she did. "No, you don't smell." She chuckled. "And I think we have the same issue. They don't make coach seating for people with legs."

He laughed. "Will Sawyer. And thank you for telling me that I don't smell."

"Is it a common problem?" She tilted her head and gave him a grin.

"Well, I wouldn't know, but I seem to have a problem with getting people to sit next to me, so I assume it's my body odor."

CJ just cracked up. "CJ Cregg. And no, again, you don't smell. But if you like I can sit next to you and reassure you."

"As much as I'd like that, Ms. CJ Cregg, I think that our legs would battle with each other. And it's a long flight and I don't want to have to kill you by the time it's finished." They both laughed and CJ leaned across the seat to talk more to him, forgetting all about her book and the Kate Bush tape she'd been planning on listening to in order to pass the time on the way to LA.

"Hello, Beautiful."

"How did you know that it was me?" She kicked off her heels and collapsed onto the couch, not wanting to think about the unpacking she had to do. Will's number burned a hole in her pocket and she wanted instead to call him – even if it would make her seem desperate.

"Do the time difference math, Jeanie." Toby chuckled and stretched out across his futon. She was the only person, ever, who could wake him at any hour of the night and he wouldn't mind.

"Sorry. I had to go to the office as soon as the plane landed so I just got in. I'll let you sleep."

"No, it's okay. I … I wanted to talk to you anyway. We really didn't talk much before you left." He choked a bit.

"Is this the 'where are we going from here' conversation?"

"It needs to be. Because I want to know if what happened in my apartment stays here or if it follows you back to LA. I'll make the flights and make it work, just like I promised to four years ago, but we need to know where we're going and we avoided the conversation all weekend." He was never this direct with her, but he had to know. He needed to know if he was going to allow himself to move on, or if he would stay right where he wanted to be – in love with her.

"Toby, I …" she really didn't want to do this right now. She was tired and her feet hurt and she hadn't eaten since he had practically force fed a bagel to her before her plane took off.

"I'm not hanging up this phone until you tell me where you want us to go, CJ." He tried to not let his voice crack. With every protest, every hedging comment, he could feel the walls back up around her heart. She wasn't going to let herself get hurt again and a long distance relationship meant time and commitment and pain. And he hated the thought of causing pain in any kind of fashion. "Or I'll just tell you what you're already telling me …" he whispered as she just sat there.

"Toby, I love you." CJ could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. "But I.. I can't. Not with us on opposite ends of the country like this … it hurts too much to say goodbye to you."

He choked a bit. "So don't. Come back here …"

"I can't. And you know it so stop asking." She closed her eyes. Why did he always have to do this to her? "Toby, I … the past four years have proved that we can be friends. Maybe that's what we need to be, what we were meant to be." Behind her closed lids she could still see the way he'd stared openly at Andrea Wyatt. But her voice was cracking as she said the words and she knew that he'd be able to tell it wasn't what she really wanted. But then again, neither of them knew what they wanted. Maybe they never had.

"Jeanie …" he heard the catch in her voice and watched the walls get higher. She'd break this off and they'd continue to be friends, and she would date again and have her heart broken but it would be okay for her because she'd never let them in. And he wouldn't be there to protect her from someone who would be too rough with her. He would just be waiting for the phone to ring at 3 AM again after a one night stand had been just rough enough to make the past come crashing back down around her ears and he would feel guilty because he couldn't fly out there and save her. He didn't want it to end like this, over the phone. But he wondered if it was the only way for them to end it. They'd never be able to break it off if they were looking into each other's eyes. "Yeah …" he couldn't argue with her about this.

"Toby, really … we can't just keep tugging at each other like we have been. We can be friends and write inane letters to each other and call each other at all hours of the night drunk and agonizing over lost love. But I can't do this long distance right now. I just can't. I love you too much and I can't put my heart through that. I can't."

"You mean you won't."

"I won't."

"I love you, Jeanie." He couldn't say anything else, so he hung up and rolled over on his futon and stared out the window until the sun rose over the Hudson. Dawn broke without her in his arms.

**Washington, DC**

**2005**

"CJ?"

She sighed and looked up from the file she was reading through. She really wanted to know why she'd hired this guy again. Oh yeah, because her former boss and mentor had told her that she couldn't live without him. "What is it, Margaret?"

"Congresswoman Wyatt is here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment, but –"

"It's all right, go ahead and send her in." She closed the file and stood as the Congresswoman entered the room. "Andi."

"CJ." The women regarded each other with the discomfort they'd held for years. It wasn't until Margaret closed the door, granting them privacy, that Andi sat and spoke. "I'm sorry all of this is coming out …"

"Are you?" She regretted the words the instant they were out of her mouth. "Let me take that one back. I know you are."

"I wasn't this guy's source."

"None of us were. It's a tabloid author who broke the law by breaking into homes and finding things that were private. But proving that in a court of law is going to be damned near impossible so we just have to suck it up and hope that the book gets ignored."

"Have you read any of it?"

"I know enough." CJ sighed. "Andi, it's only going to give truth to the rumors …"

"It's more you than me that I'm worried about, CJ. I forgave the two of you a long time ago." Had she?

"Did you?" CJ regarded her carefully. "Did you, really, forgive us?"

"CJ?"

"I know how much Toby loves his children, Andrea …" Where was this coming from? She couldn't do this, not here, not in her office, and it wasn't fair to Andi. "You know what, never mind. I'm sorry, it's not my place."

"No, CJ, it's not. There are some parts of Toby that don't belong to you, even now. And when you finally understand that, life will be easier for all of us." The words were hauntingly familiar – an echo of what she'd thrown back years ago, right before she and Toby had married.

"In the interest of full disclosure, Andi, those parts are again mine." CJ tried to not glare at the other woman. Andi felt her mouth go dry. She'd known of the one night stands over the years of the administration between her ex-husband and his best friend, but it was clear from the look in CJ's eyes that this time it was much more serious than comfort sex. "And it's not my place to even tell you that, but … it could end up looking bad. I just want you to know …"

Andi just chuckled. "No, CJ. Don't try the platitudes. And I'm fine with it. I want Toby happy and he's happy with you – for as happy as he can be."

"He isn't sad, Andi. He's what you make of him. Don't belittle who and what he is." This was stupid – two grown women fighting over a man like they were still in high school. Andi felt it too and just shook her head.

"I just came by to say that I'm sorry, CJ. Really. We don't need to fight over anyone."

"No, we don't." She glanced at the clock and decided she could try and be polite. "Want to grab some lunch?" They hadn't really been friends for years, but for the sake of peace on the Hill, CJ was willing to try. She respected Andrea as a member of congress, if not as Toby's ex-wife.

"Sure." Andi sighed. Maybe coming up here hadn't been such a good idea, but she had felt the need at the time to apologize to CJ. She still did, but she didn't know if it was for what was about to be made public, or if it was for taking Toby away from her all those years ago.

April, 1993 

"Hi."

"How is what's his name?" He chuckled and could see her sputtering.

"How is what's her name?" She countered, knowing full well that Andi was doing well, but not sure if she was ready to tell him that she and Will were practically living together.

He chuckled. "We can talk about everything except the people we're dating. How was work?"

"I'm thinking about taking a job with Trinton-Day after I complete this round of my masters. I mean, all this work for political polling and I could get a job with any of the polling organizations in DC, but something just tells me that Trinton is the way to go."

"They have all those high powered California political accounts. Have you ever wondered why the State of California is broke? They pay people like you way too much money."

She laughed. "EMILY's list isn't paying back the student loans, Tobus."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." He sighed and put his feet up, looking across the room, through the stacks of boxes. "But, seriously. I need to give you something."

"What's that?" She sipped at her wine and wondered if and when Will was coming over tonight.

"My new address. I'm moving to Baltimore."

She coughed, spitting wine across the kitchen. "You're what?"

"Andi and I …yeah."

The coughing stopped. He … she'd known that he'd been seeing Andrea for a while, on and off since that party three years ago, and seriously over the past year, but didn't realize how serious it had become. "You're moving in with Andi."

"Actually, I asked her to marry me." Argue with me, CJ, he begged silently. Tell me that it's a bad idea. Give me a reason to back out of this and move these boxes to LA. As much as he loved Andi, and he wanted to make it work, there was a different ring buried in these boxes – a ring meant for CJ's finger.

She coughed again, closing her eyes. She couldn't do this, she couldn't believe this. "Congratulations. You know, you could have told me you two were getting so close."

"I hate talking about my other girlfriends with you. You hate talking about your other boyfriends with me. So how are you and Will?"

She sighed. "He'll be here, maybe, tonight. He's working late, trying to meet a deadline before they ship him off to Iraq to cover what's going on out there. You really should have told me that you and Andi were that close. How did you propose?" Damnit, she'd enjoy the fact that he was happy. She'd told him to stay in New York. She had told him that she couldn't handle it. She couldn't blame him for falling in love with someone else.

"You'll think I'm corny."

"I already do, I …" she stopped herself from saying 'I know what you're like when you're in love'. "How did you propose?"

"Top of the Empire State Building." He was smiling, in spite of himself. He did love Andi, and he was glad she'd said yes.

"God, Tobus. I can't believe it." She laughed and went to pour another glass of wine. "When do you move?"

"As soon as I can find a place, or the end of the month. Whichever comes first. Andi is running for Congress, so it just won't do to have me living with her." It actually felt good to talk about her with CJ … even if he still wanted her to argue with him.

"Don't end up living out of your car, Toby. That will look even worse." CJ couldn't help but laugh. "I can see the headline now 'Congresswoman found in passionate embrace with homeless man."

Toby cracked up. "Who knows, it might go a long way to boosting the polls. She's going to win, CJ." The pride was evident in his voice.

"I know. I still work for EMILY's list. I know exactly where her numbers are. And I'm very impressed." She wanted Will to open the door and walk in and save her from this conversation. Tomorrow she'd be okay, but now she wanted to finish the bottle of wine and fuck her boyfriend senseless and not think about how she'd let the best thing in her life fall in love with another woman. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to just take the job and Trinton-Day and get it all over with and move away from politics.

A key turned in the lock and she breathed out. Thank god. "Hey, Toby, Will just got here so I should go. I'll call you tomorrow. And congratulations. I love you, Sweetie."

"I love you too, Baby." He sighed as he hung up. Andi would never have that term of endearment or be able to make him smile just by calling him "sweetie". But he was making the right decision, he knew it. Now he just needed to convince his heart of it.

For her part, CJ just pounced on Will as he walked through the door and let him have his way completely with her.

One Month Later 

She wanted to say that it was the ringing of the phone that woke her, but truth be told, she hadn't been asleep, not fully. Toby had been restless all night, saying that he felt like something was wrong. So she listened to him write and pace while she tried, futilely, to sleep. When the phone rang, she leapt for it, wondering who the hell would be calling at such an out, but then she remembered. Toby had given her number to CJ – in case of an emergency, he said. In case he wasn't at his place and she needed to get a hold of him. But something told Andi this wasn't an emergency, and she picked up the phone as he did, and held her voice when she realized her fears, that it was CJ on the other end. Toby had reached it first and they were already deep in conversation. Feeling guilty despite her anger, Andi listened.

"What's wrong?"

"What makes you think that something is wrong?" CJ choked through a thick drag on a cigarette – her first in years.

"It's two AM and you're smoking. Baby, what is it?" Toby ran his hand through his thinning hair, trying to banish all the reasons that CJ would be sounding this panicked from his mind. It had to be serious if she was waking him up and not Anisah.

CJ sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I made a mistake tonight is all. Took a guy home, hoping to forget that Will decided we could see other people while he was in Iraq."

Toby bristled, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"God, no, Toby. But it was just a mistake. And now I feel cheap and used and …"

"And you called me so that I can reassure you that you aren't cheap or easy and that you most certainly aren't a whore."

"Shut up."

"Has it worked yet?"

CJ giggled a bit. "Not really." Stubbing out the cigarette, she just stared skyward, listening to the wind through the trees.

"What really happened, CJ? One night stands don't make you feel this way."

She sighed softly. "I don't know, I just …"

"What is it?" Toby settled on Andi's living room couch, thinking how soon it would be his living room couch, and listened to the breathing of his ex-girlfriend on the phone. "Baby, what is it?"

In her bed, Andrea Wyatt stifled a jealous scream. Toby had never once called her "Baby", and yet twice here in this conversation with CJ, he'd whispered the name to her like they were still lovers.

"He touched my ankles, Toby."

"Before I figure out what position the two of you were in so that he would be touching your ankles, can I remind you that therapy is a good thing and maybe you should try it."

"Toby!"

"CJ, it's okay. Really. And you know that."

"I do. I just … needed to hear your voice."

"Was he any good?" Toby sipped at his scotch, knowing the question would make her laugh.

"Not really. It was a self-satisfying experience."

He chuckled. "Well, at least it was satisfying." He shifted position on the couch, blocking the image of CJ touching herself. For too many years he'd listened over the phone while they'd played back and forth, while he'd told her just what he wanted to do to her while those long fingers of hers teased until she was screaming his name across the miles. When they were together he used to love watching her masturbate; watching her fingers move in and out of her body had always been a turn on for him. "How was your graduation?" He needed to change the subject.

"Wonderful. I wish you had been here.

"Me too. You're smarter than me now, you know, what with this double-masters."

"You're still a lawyer, even if you don't use the degree."

"Maybe I should. Where are you going to be working again?"

"I'm still with EMILY's List, although Trinton-Day is courting me. Right now I like where I am, though."

"Careful, I'll hire you." He smiled when he could tell she was smiling.

"I'll remember that. I should go, you need to sleep and Andi will kill you if …"

"CJ, you're my best friend and I love you. And Andi knows that. You're a part of my life."

'I'd rather you weren't.' Andi grumbled to herself as she listened to them say good-bye.

"Call me if you can't sleep. I'll talk the nightmares away. It's over, Baby. He can't hurt you anymore. He's an entire world away."

"Yeah. I know."

Andi hung up only after they had, closing her eyes against the jealousy that jumped at her from the dark of the room. She had to stop this before she ended up marrying both of them.

December, 1994 

"Toby," CJ laughed into the phone, "it's three days to your wedding! Shouldn't you be asleep out there?"

"CJ." Andi tried to keep the harshness from her voice, but found it impossible.

CJ blinked, completely surprised. Two in the morning was her time with Toby – but she supposed that Andrea knew that. "Andi, how are you?" She looked down at the wedding invitation on her kitchen table, an invitation she knew for a fact had been hard won from Toby. She wondered how many nights he'd been denied sex because CJ was going to show up and probably even give a speech. And she wondered exactly how smart it was for her to even be going – she didn't know if her heart could take the actual viewing of Toby and Andrea becoming Mr. and Mrs. Zeigler. She didn't even have a date for this thing. So she was, in three days, getting on a plane and heading to Baltimore for a two days of rehearsal dinners and wedding receptions and then a few days just to herself to enjoy DC and try to forget about Toby and Andrea locked away together in Paris or Berlin or wherever he was taking her on their honeymoon. Three days of just being a tourist and maybe hooking up with three different men. Hell, just for fun she might throw caution to the wind and check out the lesbian scene. It wouldn't hurt her. What the hell was she thinking?

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Obviously." She swallowed, knowing full well what Andrea wanted to say.

"He's not yours anymore, CJ. I don't care if you're still friends, but he's not yours anymore. You can't just call him at all hours and you can't sit there and share things with him that I don't know. I'm the one he's marrying, not you. You lost out on that chance and I'm sorry, but I happen to be deeply, deeply in love with this man, and I'm tired of playing second fiddle to how much he cares about you."

"You can't give him that ultimatum, Andrea."

"I know. Which is why I'm giving it to you. Back off, CJ. Those parts of him that you keep thinking are yours, they aren't anymore."

CJ blinked, "Andi, Toby and I have known each other for ten years. That doesn't go away over night. But I do know how in love with you he is."

"Yes, he is. So stop fighting it and just let me love him." Andrea took a deep, painful breath. "Let him love me. Every time you call with a broken heart, every single time, he slips back into the world of needing you. You, not me. And he frets and worries and I can't do anything but sit there and he doesn't care that my own heart is breaking. You have other friends who can save you from yourself when you do something stupid, let them do that. Save Toby for me, all right?"

"Andrea, he's all yours. But I'm not going to stop being his friend."

"And there are parts of him that don't belong to you anymore. I mean it. Let them go. Let him go so that he can love someone else. I don't know your history and why you broke up, all I know is that you did and it left him scarred but every time you call like you do, it opens all of those wounds back up and I have to be the one to patch him up while you dart around like you own the world. I'm tired of it, CJ. He doesn't belong to you anymore."

"Toby doesn't belong to anyone." CJ honestly thought about reaching through the phone and strangling the woman. "For all the bitching you do about how sexist Toby can be, I think you should remember that he's his own man and will do what he wants. And he also wouldn't be marrying you if he didn't, honestly, want to spend eternity with you, Andrea. So stop getting on me about your cold feet and that you're scared about how moody he can be. Toby drinks too much, works too hard, doesn't sleep enough, and is rough and demanding in bed. You know all of this and you love it, or you wouldn't have agreed to marry him. And if, god help you, you agreed to marry him because it doesn't look good politically right now to be a single woman in a high powered political position, then I suggest you rethink that rock you're wearing. Toby doesn't play cosmetic politics well, but you should know that, because you're in love with him and in three days you're going to be bonding your soul to his forever. So cut the crap, Congresswoman." She'd have hung up, but she didn't want to be rude.

"CJ…"

"I'll see you both in three days, Andi. Have a good night, and try to get some sleep. Don't worry, I won't tell Toby that you called." Now she did hang up, and went straight for the bottle of wine that she'd promised herself she was going to save for a special occasion. She'd buy another one before heading off to be with her family for the holidays. Right now, she needed to get drunk.

He smashed the glass under his foot and the crowd erupted into cheers. Toby took Andrea into his arms and kissed her passionately, euphoria rushing through his veins as he held his bride, his bride, in his arms. The rabbi laughed, the priest chuckled, and CJ sat, staring, not able to stop the tears. He was married and damnit, he was happy. There wasn't anything she could do to stop it, and she didn't want to either. He was happy. That was all that mattered to her.

She watched as they danced the first three songs together, and then Andrea's father stole her for a dance, and CJ stole Toby. His arms tightened around her as they moved across the floor and she smiled and meant it when she told him she was happy for him. At dinner she'd given a traditional blessing – and later his sister had hugged her tightly and asked why on Earth she'd come, but also said that it was good that she had. And now they danced, one song became two, but she pulled away when that one ended, and turned him back into the arms of his wife. And after the party had cheered the happy couple on their way to Paris, CJ went to her hotel room and changed from a dress she now wanted to burn and headed down to the bar, dressed only in a pair of jeans and a tank top. She didn't want to pick anyone up, she only wanted a drink and some relative anonymity.

"CJ Cregg, right?"

Jumping, she turned and smiled. "Senator Hoynes. It's good to see you again."

"I came over to say thank you for all the work that you and EMILY's list put into my campaign."

"Well, Senator, there were no strong female candidates," she chuckled, meeting his soft brown eyes with her own. "And you have a decent record."

"You wound me, Ms. Cregg." He laughed. "You know how strongly I take my position on women's rights in this country."

"You're running for President in a few years, Senator. We all know this. And EMILY's list wants you on the ticket, but we will also hold you to the promises you've made."

"I hope that you do." He nodded to her empty glass. "What are you drinking?"

"The house red."

"Well, another glass." He smiled at the bartender. "And a club soda with a twist of lime, please." The drinks appeared before them, and they toasted to his victory.

And in the morning, she curled up against his naked body, the safety of his strong arms around her marred by the coldness of a wedding ring she could feel as his hand traced patterns on her back. What had she just done? What kind of woman was she turning in to? His lips closed over hers, and his long legs twisted with hers, and she forgot the wedding ring and a wife whose name she couldn't remember and an ex-boyfriend who was in Paris now with his new wife. Rather than fall victim to her own weakness, she gave back as good as she got, keeping the Senator in bed most of the day. And it wasn't until she was alone again in her room, when he'd returned to his home and his life, that she purged the guilt from the night before. She hit the stores, spending money she didn't have, she hit the Mall, not minding the cold as she walked her way up toward the Lincoln Memorial, and as she stood at the marble feet of a man she idolized, she let the tears come. But honestly, she didn't know what she was crying for.

When she returned to her room, the message light was flashing. Reaching for the receiver, she listened to John's husky voice telling her that his wife was still at her parent's house in Texas and that he wanted to see her again before she left DC. He begged her to call him, that he would meet her at the bar again. It would look innocent, he was used to being seen there.

CJ stared at the buttons on the phone for a long time, wondering what she had become in such a short period of time. But she liked John, not just because of how he treated her in bed, but because of the way his eyes twinkled and how he teased her about women's politics. She felt bad that she couldn't remember his wife's name, but at the moment it was actually a good thing. Part of her wondered if he'd been thinking of his wife while they'd been making love last night, but she couldn't dwell. Did she want to see him again? She did. She'd been attracted to him since their very first meeting, and now she had the chance to act on it. And it would be over when she checked out of the hotel and headed back to California. One more night couldn't hurt. With shaking fingers, she picked up and dialed his number.

Only some of this has to do with sex; although some of it does. Some of the boys have cars, but others do not, and with them I go on buses, on streetcars, on the newly opened Toronto subway that is clean and uneventful and looks like a long pastel-tiled bathroom. The air smells of lilac or mown grass or burning leaves, depending on the season. We walk over the new cement footbridge, with the willow trees arching overhead, the sound of running water from the creek beneath. We stand in the dim light coming from the lampposts on the bridge and lean back against the railing, their arms around me and mine around them. We lift each other's clothing, run our hands over each other's backbones, and I feel the backbone tensed and strung to breaking. I feel the length of the whole body, I touch the face, amazed. The faces of the boys change so much, they soften, open up, they ache. The body is pure energy, solidified light.

To Be Continued …

Copyright August 2005


	8. Chapter 8

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Sawyer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills._

_A/N: I was reading a fic a while back, where Toby called CJ "Jeanie". And the idea stuck with me and I can't for the life of me remember the story, but I liked the nickname, so I'm using it and this is as close as I get to being able to credit her.) _

_Disclaimer 2: I never ever put a note like this in my stories, but since some people are sensitive to it – a lot of the chapters from this point on deal with some things that happened to CJ while she was in Qumar. And there's nothing graphic, but there are mentions of sexual and physical assault. And yes, these mentions are necessary to get to the end of the story, many many chapters from now. So, just fair warning to people._

Chapter 8 – Snapshots

**1997**

"Don't go."

He sighed for the hundredth time in the conversation. "I have to."

"Toby …" Andrea sighed and flopped back into their bed – feeling just how cold and empty it really was without him there next to her. He'd promised to be coming home this weekend and now he was flying off to LA to talk _her_ into working for the campaign.

"Please, Andi, don't start. Please. I know what I promised, but you know more than anyone how campaigns work."

"What is the difference between getting her tomorrow and waiting until Monday?" She knew the difference. She knew full well that if CJ agreed tomorrow night, then she could, theoretically, be in New Hampshire by Monday morning. If Toby waited until Monday, it could take an extra week to get her on board. But she also wanted her husband in Maryland right now, and that wasn't going to happen and yet again, their time together was being interrupted by CJ. Andrea knew she wasn't being fair. The reason she loved this man was because of his passion for his job, and right now he was doing what he needed to do to get a good man into the White House. But she was also a wife, feeling very neglected right now, and it was easy to blame his ex-girlfriend for it.

"I'm not justifying that with an answer, Andi."

She sighed. "Yeah." Running a hand over her still flat abdomen, she offered up a prayer that her period wouldn't come like it was supposed to this week.

"I'll call you tomorrow, Sweetheart. I love you, Andi."

"I love you too, Toby." She sighed as she replaced the receiver and wished again, that he wasn't going to go.

"CJ, you fell into the pool there!" He honestly had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. God, she was so damned cute when she was flustered. And she'd kill him for even thinking that.

"I can't see!" She cried out, frustrated, as if the realization of being fired was sinking in while her hundred dollar shoes sank to the bottom of the pool. Swimming forward, she looked up, only seeing the blob that was Toby, but she could tell he was smirking. "Avert your eyes."

"What?" He coughed, not quite sure he'd heard right.

"Avert your eyes. I am climbing out of the pool now and my clothes will be clingy." She fumbled her way to the stairs in the pool, already hearing his argument.

"CJ, I didn't come here too—"

"Avert your eyes!" He did, turning, trying not to laugh, and knowing that while his trip here was purely professional, part of him had come here just for that reason, just to see her in as little as possible and to feel her moving under him. He heard her climb out and knew she was wrapping her clothes around herself as much as possible, when he also heard the resignation in her voice, "Oh, turn around." He did and chuckled. CJ rolled her eyes at him and stormed toward the small pool house, trying to ignore the natural reaction her body had to his. He was married now, something she had done her best to learn to respect. Wasn't staying in LA when she had bigger and better possibilities in DC and New York a good enough sign of faith? Did Andi know he was here? Four nights ago, when he'd left that cryptic message on her machine, she had known that Andi was there and that they couldn't talk. That meant they were still trying to work things out. And she might be blind, but the sun reflected off his wedding ring.

"I tried calling you at your office." His tone faltered a bit, moving from amusement to worry. "They said you'd been fired."

Grabbing a towel, she ran it over herself, through her hair, "Roger Becker fell from second most powerful person in Hollywood to ninth most powerful person." She talked over his interruption. "They take it seriously!" She hated talking about this failure to him. It made her want to drag him inside and have him help her forget just how badly she'd screwed up. So she just looked at him, demanding, expecting. What the Hell was he doing here?

And he cut right to it. "CJ, Jed Bartlet is very impressed with you and part of his game plan is bringing you on as press secretary."

_He looked up as she entered the room again, dressed now in a pair of well-worn jeans with holes in the knees and an even older Berkley t-shirt that read "Liberal Girls give best on the left." Her hair now dried in tight curls and he wished the red-blonde locks were longer - the short perm wasn't as flattering as she'd hoped it would be. He could also tell just at a glance that she wasn't wearing a bra under that feminista t-shirt. _

_She heard him clear his throat and her eyes went to his left hand and she watched him play idly with the wedding band. "So," she sighed, "Jed Bartlett, hmm? And, knowing you, the staff is nothing but monkeys."_

_"I'll be sure to let McGarry know that you think he's a monkey." Toby snorted and moved to the couch rather than watch her walk around the room in those jeans. "Seriously, the staff is mostly interns, of course. The guys Leo is putting together are good though. There's a kid named Sam Seaborn who's been working for one of the law firms in New York and he's a halfway decent writer. Oh, and Leo brought in Josh Lyman." He watched as she spun around, totally surprised._

_"I thought Lyman was working for Hoynes."_

_"Well..." Toby spread his arms, "now he's working for us. He's arrogant and --"_

_"So are you, Tobus." She stayed right where she was. Talking politics with Toby Ziegler was always a bad idea for her, and this time she couldn't just jump him when the topic got hot. "Tell me the basics of what I'm going to need to know, give me the briefing books, and then call Andi. At some point you need to drive me down to get my car out of the Trinton-Day parking lot." _

Toby laughed and nodded, "All right. So," he handed her the book on top, "this is most of what you need to know." He'd tear his eyes away from her chest for now. It wasn't fair to either of them to be flirting like this.

She nodded, opening the book and loosing herself in the work she needed to be doing. Part of her hated that she couldn't say no to this man, but who in their right mind would turn down a chance to help get a good man elected president. Toby rattled at her, but most of what she needed was self-explanatory, and finally she just told him to go call Andi and let her read. It was easier that way, and she needed the space. And the more times she said Andi's name in a single sentence, the easier it would be to turn off the dripping faucet of desire she felt for this man.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

She melted back into the couch, "Hi …" Andi sighed softly, wondering exactly why it had taken so long for him to call her. All kinds of reasons raced through her head, but she had to remind herself to trust her husband and his best friend. "How's CJ?"

"Taking the job." It was all he could answer. He didn't think that Andi needed to hear how great CJ looked.

"Good." Andi groaned inwardly. How dare this woman do this to her? Why the hell couldn't she just stay in LA, as far away from Toby as possible? But Andi also knew the answer to that, and that in the end Toby would just start finding ways to go visit. As it was, he'd been making more and more calls to her lately – and trying to hide them from her.

"You don't really think it's a good idea," Toby husked into the phone, knowing full well CJ could probably hear him.

"It doesn't matter what I think or not, Toby. If she's the right one for the job, she's the right one for the job. And the rest be damned." She didn't believe it for a second, and neither did Toby, but she had to put up a brave face and believe that her husband wasn't going to cheat on her with his ex. Again, her hand covered her abdomen and she closed her eyes, praying. Maybe this was finally it and this irrational feeling she couldn't shake was just her hormones starting to kick in.

"I need to go, Andi. Take it easy and I love you, Sweetheart. I'll call later." He barely waited for her to reply before hanging up and moving back to the living room.

CJ looked up at him, pen in her mouth. "Hey," she took the pen out, trying to avoid his eyes while he wrestled with the issues regarding Andi. "Why don't you follow me down to Trinton and we'll get my car and then go grab takeout from the kosher deli down the street. On the way downtown I'll tell you everything that your media team is doing wrong."

Only CJ thought about Kosher for him. Even Andi forgot half the time. "Yeah." He took the briefing book from her hands and then pulled her to her feet, trying to not focus on her chest or her hardening nipples. God, this trip had been a bad idea. Why couldn't he have just called her?

The dinner plates rested among the briefing books and CJ reached across the table to snag a piece of meat from Toby's plate. The words were all starting to swim before her and she was reaching her maximum load for cramming stuff into her brain. Toby chuckled and playfully swatted her fingers away from his lamb. "That's mine. You have your own mess on your plate."

"Yours is better."

Toby rolled his eyes and took her hand before she could get her fingers back to her mouth. Meeting her eyes, he just smirked as she fed the small piece of lamb to him. The spark that ran between them was palpable, but he didn't let go of her hand until she tugged her fingers free and looked back down at the books she was trying to memorize.

How dare he. How dare he flirt with her like that when his wife was on the other side of the country? He had to know how much she wanted him right now, and how she wouldn't, she couldn't again betray what morals she had left. She'd already been down the guilt road with a married man and she didn't need to do it again. "While you were getting dinner ready I called my travel agent. I'll have a ticket. I'll just leave the house as is until I know if I'll have a job in January."

"Yeah." He didn't blame her for changing the subject, and suddenly the ring on his hand seemed much heavier than it actually was. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this to CJ, to Andi, or to himself, but the erection he was glad the table was hiding just wouldn't go away. As much as he loved Andi, was in love with Andi, worshipped Andi, CJ still held his heart and he followed where she pointed. He watched while she stood, moving to refill their drink glasses. She reached over him from behind, putting one hand on his shoulder, and he covered it with his own, looking up into her eyes and whispering her name. His fingertips ran over the length of her arm and the other hand reached up to wrap around her waist. She was right, he knew, that they couldn't do this, but Andi was a world away, and with CJ everything was so easy. With CJ it was all perfect – passionate politics and they could share soapboxes and they communicated on the same level. A night making love to her would never solve the problems in his marriage with Andi, but it would get moments like this out of his system and maybe he could spend the rest of the campaign with her and not continue to cheat on the woman he had married.

CJ pulled back, her voice catching in her throat, but it didn't matter. She and Toby had never needed words to communicate. So she just put the drink back down in front of him and moved back across the table from him, picking up her legal pad and trying to make notes again. Hopefully he'd get the hint and help her out – she couldn't do this, she couldn't let her mind wander this way. "Go over the education plan again." Please, Toby, her voice pleaded, don't do this to us. You know that I can't say no to you.

Toby held her gaze before shifting in his seat, willing his body to cooperate with her wishes. He could take a shower soon and take care of business then. Right now, they needed to work. But even though her tone begged him to stop looking at her, he knew her eyes and her body and that thin shirt wasn't hiding anything. Slowly, he stood up and moved around to her side of the table. His hands rested on her shoulders, dipping lower, until he cupped her breasts, stroking her nipples with his thumbs. CJ moaned and leaned back into him. After a long moment of guilt and self-recrimination, she took his left hand and slid his ring off. Tonight it was just them, and she would forget about Andi. "Toby …"

"Let me make love to you," he whispered.

She caught his hands again and as he leaned down, reaching for her shirt, she helped him lift it over her head. She could never say no to this man. "Let's go to bed, Toby," she whispered softly.

**2005**

"It's past ten."

"When do I usually leave this building?" CJ looked up at him from the book she'd been reading, the bite of the words leaving their mark in her eyes.

"Fair point. What are you reading?" He took the book from her and frowned. "How did you get this?"

"My secretary is an amazing woman." She left it at that and just shook her head and then reached for the book.

"How bad is it?" Toby reached for her hands instead, holding them in his own. "Seriously?"

She pulled her hands free and opened to the chapter she'd been staring at for at least the last ten minutes. "The Bartlet White House is hardly the epitome of racial and feminine equality that they declare the United States should be. Looking at the staffers who fill the ranks of those closest to the President, you find only WASPy White, Jewish and Catholic men and one woman who slept her way into the inner circle. The closest the Administration came to racial equality was allowing a young Black man to wait on the President." She took a deep breath and looked at him again.

"This was ghosted."

"And I recognize the writing."

"So do I. And I'd kill her myself if I could."

"Mandy doesn't know what she's talking about. And some poor pool photographer is getting an armload of cash for putting his name to this because she can't get away with openly trashing us like this."

"Why are you telling me that she doesn't know what she's talking about when you're scared that the entire world will believe what is written on those pages."

"Because I don't like having my personal life out there for everyone to look at Toby, and worse than just being looked at, I'm now being called a whore."

"No one is going to pay attention to this book, CJ. It's tabloid trash."

CJ just handed the pages back to him, this time opened to a full color print of the two of them locked into a passionate kiss. "No one is going to pay attention to that?"

He stared, but remembered for a minute that he was communications director and this was as much his area as it had once been hers. "No. We'll spin it if they ask and if they don't, we pretend we haven't seen it." He looked at her. "It's a non-story." She nodded, but still looked thoroughly miserable. He knew that she didn't believe him, but then again, he really didn't believe himself either. "Anyway, if all you are doing is reading this trash, then let me take you home so you can get some sleep before the day hits us."

She sighed. Margaret had already left for the night, and she was actually finished with the bare minimum of what she needed to do. The rest would wait until morning. So she just nodded, let Toby take the book and her hands, and just followed him out of the White House. Tomorrow, as Scarlet would say, was another day. And to be able to face that day, she would need her rest.

**1997**

CJ dropped her bags onto the spare bed in his hotel room and groaned loudly. "Toby, if we are going to be sharing any kind of living space …"

He chuckled. "Now you sound like my wife." The words came out before he realized what he'd said and the tension in the air grew by leaps and bounds. "I …"

"Toby," CJ moved over and put her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly from behind. "You _are_ married, and what happened back in LA needs to stay there. It's okay to refer to Andi in front of me … I'm your best friend, I'm not your mistress."

He let out a soft sigh. "Thank you." His hands covered hers and they held each other for a moment before she pulled back.

"All right, let me try to salvage a couple of things from the bottom of my suitcase and then get me down to the offices. There's work to be done." She turned to rescue her suits from the dress bag and then changed into a long, flowing skirt. She wanted to look at least a little professional for her first day on the job. Toby waited, patiently, not bothering to turn his head. He'd seen it before and he knew himself, he'd see it again. Soon.

"I'm going to kill him." She closed the door to the room they shared and kicked off her shoes – one landed on the bed the other behind a chair. Toby had to duck to save himself from being impaled with a stiletto. "I don't care if he's going to make a good president someday. Right now, I am going to kill the bastard."

"Why do you think I hide here?" Toby hid his face behind the legal pad he was scribbling on.

CJ chuckled and collapsed onto the bed their files and papers had claimed. It was easier to let the files have a place to reside than try to stay organized. In the three weeks since she'd joined the campaign, they'd shared a bed every night, mostly as friends. CJ was surprised at easy the transition to friends had been, even if it wasn't always perfectly comfortable. More than once, she'd woken up to Toby's erection pressing into her back, and his hands on her breasts. Yesterday she'd given in to her own desires and let herself wake him up with a passionate kiss. But they'd kept from repeating all the mistakes of Los Angeles, and she wanted to keep it that way. She could convince herself that it was only sleep deprivation that led them to mistakes like this morning when his fingers had slipped past the elastic of her panties and into her folds. "How's the speech coming?"

"Better now that I've taken what Sam wrote and pulled it apart."

CJ smirked. "You're impossible, you know, right? And I know that instead of pulling it apart, you're really finding a way to make it into the President's voice because he's almost as good a writer as you."

"Don't let that go any further than this room, Claudia Jean." He chuckled. "What brings you up here in the middle of the day again?"

"The jerk we're helping to get elected president."

"He is a good man, CJ –" He stopped when the phone rang. Grumbling, he reached for it. "Zeigler."

"Oh, thank God. You're here."

He blinked. "Andrea, it's the middle of the day … what is it? Don't you have a vote or something?"

Suddenly her own notes seemed like a good idea and CJ gathered the top three piles and started to move out of the room, letting them have some time for themselves. But Toby's gasp stopped her cold in her tracks. "Oh God, Andi … really? Really, for real … it's … it's really happening? You're pregnant?"

_Anisah! I didn't want him here! I didn't want him to see me this way!_

"Yeah, Toby, really." Andrea's breath still caught in her throat as she thought ahead to the next nine months. They were actually going to be parents. Maybe, just maybe, this would help to fix the problems that were going on in their marriage.

Toby held his breath, waiting for it to end. He couldn't look up at the stiff set of his best friend's shoulders. He knew she'd heard his whispered exclamation, and already he felt guilty for being able to share in this with Andi when he and CJ had lost so much because of the loss of their child. He blinked and the hotel room door had opened and closed, with CJ firmly on the other side. But he couldn't chase after her now. Now he was focused back on Andi, his heart racing, and his mind racing with the possibilities of the life growing inside of her.

"Hey, CJ."

She blinked and turned around, gracing Josh Lyman with a smile. "Hey, Josh. Tell me that you're hiding too."

"Yeah." He reached out and relived her of half her stack of notebooks and papers. "Actually, I was looking for you and Toby. I thought we could plan media strategy while we all have time to hide."

"I'll work with you." She shot a look back at the closed door. "Toby's on the phone with Andrea and they'll probably be on for a while, but I could use some lunch and a friendly face to discuss the media with."

"What, the media aren't friendly?" Josh grinned brightly as he fell into step with her, his own lightning fast pace allowing him to keep up with her long legs. "I mean, come on, Danny Concannon and Will Sawyer were hairs away from killing each other when they were covering the New Hampshire results. They –"

"Oh shut up, Josh." She laughed at his schoolboy antics. "Truth be told, I have a past with Will Sawyer and even if we aren't together anymore," she let him hold the door to the motel restaurant open for her, "he still tends to get protective whenever other reporters are in the room."

Without even bothering to recover from the first revelation that CJ had once been having sex with a member of the print media, he just looked at her. "Why?"

"Because he knows what reporters are like."

Josh took the time to set the books down on the table and then looked at her, more serious than he'd been with her since she'd joined the campaign. "CJ, you … this isn't going to be a conflict of interest for you once the press start paying more attention to this campaign, is it? I mean … you're the spokesperson for the campaign and we can't have you playing house with the reporters."

"Josh, if you shut up now I promise that I'll forget you just said that. Never, ever question my objectivity. Ever. Now, order lunch and let's talk strategy."

"CJ?" Josh turned to his menu, but stopped, looking at her again. "CJ, really, are you okay? You seem pretty shaken."

She looked at him, ready to spill her guts, needing someone to talk to and a shoulder to cry on, but in the last second, professionalism prevailed. It was bad enough that the rumors abounded about her and Toby, she didn't need to add fuel to the fire by showing how upset she was that Andi was finally able to give something Toby she hadn't been able to. This reason, right here, was why she'd pushed him away. He wanted kids and it was unlikely she would ever give them to him. "No, Josh. Really, I'm just tired and overwhelmed a bit. But, let's fix that last part by working out the strategy for the next couple of months." She smiled at the waitress approached. She wasn't going to let this get to her.

"You didn't tell me that you two were trying to get pregnant …" CJ's voice was a tortured whisper in the dim light their room. Toby still sat at the table, working on the speech, and CJ curled up in bed, reading over the wires from the events of the day in case the candidate should need to comment on anything in the morning.

"Andi didn't want me telling anyone." He refused to look up at her.

"Andi didn't want you telling me, is more what you mean." She sighed a bit, "And I can respect that, I guess."

"Yeah …" Toby sighed and looked at her, finally, for the first time since Andi had told him. "It was my decision too, CJ. You know that Andi is jealous …" Andi had every reason to be. "But, I didn't want you to … we went through a lot when you miscarried and I didn't want to drag it all up again. It was for me too, CJ."

CJ looked into his eyes and nodded. "I understand that, believe it or not. It just … it makes what happened in LA … Toby, we shouldn't have done that."

Instead of nodding and agreeing with her, Toby just moved over to her and stroked her hair back behind her ear, "I don't regret it, CJ. And I don't want you regretting it either."

"Toby –"

"No." He silenced her with a gentle kiss. "Just let it go, CJ. Now, let's get back to work, okay?"

"Yeah …" but she caught his hand before he could get up off the bed. "Congratulations, Toby. You're going to make an amazing father." She couldn't stop the tears from spilling over. Never in her life had she been so glad for someone else's happiness and yet so completely miserable. This was what she wanted, she'd pushed him to find someone else who could be the mother for children that she could never be. But now she wanted these past ten years back and she hated herself for making the choices that she'd made for the both of them. Toby kissed her gently in response, unable to voice any of the words that were in his heart. But he didn't need to, not to her. The look they shared said it all, and he too was thinking about the child they'd lost. So he kissed her again and instead of moving back to the speech on child poverty, he moved over her, pushing the wires off the bed and pulling her shirt up over her head. His mouth found her breast and he sucked, teasing the response he wanted from her. "Toby … we can't …"

'Tell me no,' he thought, his lips still focused on her nipples, it was the only way he would ever stop.

"Toby …" CJ hissed. He stroked her, her back arching as he bit her nipples gently; the last time they'd made love, he had bruised her. Andi didn't like it rough – something that had always confused him. CJ, who had every reason to throw him aside the minute his teeth touched her skin, trusted him to not harm her. Andi liked it slow, gentle, and after a while, it was rather monotonous. But comparing the women in his life would do him no good here. "Toby, we can't, …" she moaned again, parting her legs slightly as she did so.

"Tell me no," he whispered, looking back into her eyes. "Tell me no."

"Your pregnant wife is back in Maryland. She and your child are counting on you."

"You honestly think that guilt works when it comes to you, CJ? That wasn't a no." He kissed her nipples again, her neck, and then traced her lips with the tip of his finger. "Tell me no, CJ. Tell me no and I'll sleep in the other bed tonight."

Her response was to kiss him again, passionately, opening herself up completely to him – and to the road they had no allowed themselves to turn on to. There was no going back after this.

"They're having a baby."

Anisah dropped the soda can she was holding, letting the sugary liquid spill all over her kitchen floor. Grunting with the weight of the child she was carrying, she slowly lowered herself to the floor, managing to feel guilty that she was able to have children. "CJ, they're married, you can't expect them to not try."

"I know, but it just hurts. I mean …"

"Oh God. Sweet and merciful Allah, CJ, you aren't sleeping with him are you? Tell me you aren't. I don't care if you're lying to me, but tell me that you aren't having an extra-marital affair with him! And I don't even care about Andi! You know I think she's a bitch and that she deserves what she gets, but don't tell me that you're risking your career yet again by gallivanting around with a married man."

"Can you speak any louder, I don't think China heard you say that." She groaned and flopped back into the pillows. She was bunking with Donna tonight – Andi was in town. "Anyway, it's …"

"It's different because it's Toby? CJ, when he said 'I Do' to Andi, he was saying it to a body on which he'd superimposed your head! Of course it's different."

"He broke it off last time! Why am I always painted the bad guy in this?"

"CJ, this time he's MARRIED! Anyway, he broke it off because the campaign ended and you were heading back to Los Angeles and Andi gave him an ultimatum that it was her or you and that he couldn't be sleeping with both. But that was 1993, CJ. They weren't married then!"

"And she shouldn't have given him that ultimatum in the first place. Damnit! What am I …"

"You're going to stop sleeping with him and stop it now. Please, please don't ruin your career for him."

"No one knows, Ani. Hell, I think even we barely know."

"Someone is going to find out and they're going to make trouble for you. Please, CJ. Please, don't do this to your heart. I know that you love him, and you love only him, but there are other men out there. And other women too."

"Please, I gave up on that when I became a grad student."

"Okay, so there are other men out there. For the love of God, find one of them. Please. I don't know if I can watch your heart break again."

"Too late, Ani …" she whispered. "Too late."

Darkness engulfed him. He'd been here before, running through hospital corridors, aching to touch the woman he loved. Andi's name echoed over and over in his mind, and again he let the guilt eat at him – he'd been across the country, winning a Primary while his wife had to deal with the loss of their child herself.

He knew that CJ was right behind him, and had been since they'd touched down at Dulles. While the rest of the campaign team went to get settled in the offices in DC, he and CJ raced toward the hospital, avoiding press and hoping to God that no one would notice. As it was, he barely even noticed CJ, save that he knew she was driving, that she was single-handedly keeping him sane.

She pushed him into Andi's room and then curled up on one of the couches, trying to keep from crying. She knew that Andrea wouldn't want her here, and so eventually she'd head back to their place and clean up, like she knew Andrea would need. Anisah had done it for her, and it was only fair that she do it for Andrea.

**2005**

"Penny." Toby rolled over and pulled her into his arms, running his fingertips down her stomach. She was so thin anymore, now more than she'd ever been before.

"They aren't worth that much." Her groggy whisper let him know that she was trying to sleep, even if the attempt was futile.

"They're worth enough to keep you up even when you have to be at work in four hours. I tried to wear you out for a reason, Baby."

"I talked to Tim the other day … he said, that, in a rare moment of lucidity, my father asked when I was going to give him grandchildren."

He knew better than to respond verbally. Toby just leaned down and kissed her shoulder, inhaling the lingering scent of Chanel #5.

"And it got me thinking … of course … about what if. I mean, the doctors always said it was unlikely but not impossible. But with the jobs I've held, you just don't have kids if you want to be the kind of mother that I want to be."

"This job won't last forever, CJ." Toby kissed her shoulder again, wondering where this conversation was going to take him.

"I know … I just …" she sighed. "Never mind me. I'm just going to go to sleep now. Sorry I said anything." She could feel how tense just the very idea had made him.

"Hey, never apologize to me for saying what I ask you for. Just sleep, okay."

"Yeah." But he held her closer, and wondered. What was she asking? What was she thinking? Was she really going to be done in politics after this?

The alarm went off long before he was ready to get out of bed. CJ was up and moving almost instantly, not having the luxury any longer of hitting snooze and finding another ten minutes of peace. So, he watched her through half-lidded eyes as she took her time dressing. A white pantsuit, a red blouse, and a necklace he'd bought for her a couple of years ago on a trip to Europe that she hadn't been able to go on because of a fever that should have sent her to the hospital. He rose when she was half dressed, the blouse open over a flimsy white-lace bra, and he took a moment to pull her back against his naked body and devour her neck with gentle kisses. He felt the goose bumps rising along her body and he grinned, his beard ticking her sensitive skin. "Good morning," he whispered.

"You too," she whispered back when she'd found her voice again. She pushed back, shaking her head, and turned back to her mirror, starting to button her blouse. "Don't forget to check the wires before you come in."

"Yeah." He watched her put on her makeup, still thinking that she was so much more beautiful in her natural glory. But the smoky look of her eyes gave her that 1950's movie star look and the lip pencil somehow made her face seem less tired. She was a master of spinning, of disguises, and when she was done, anyone would believe that she'd had a full eight hours of sleep and was completely rested. "You don't forget to eat something."

"Yeah." She kissed him, gently, and slipped out.

Toby wondered for a minute if it should bother him that neither of them had been able to say 'I love you' yet. But the worry only occupied his mind for a minute before he turned to the shower and getting ready for his morning.

**1997**

"Hi." He swallowed hard, looking down as he twirled his wedding ring through his fingers.

"Hey!" Andi focused her usual half-an-ear on her husband as she looked through the speech she was going to give tomorrow night. Win or loose for Jed Bartlet, it was going to be a big night for the Democrats. "When are you going to be home tonight?"

"I …" Toby pocketed the ring, "I'm going to stay in D.C. tonight. Sam and I are going to be up late working on the speech and CJ needs help with the media statements…"

"Since when does CJ need help with media statements?" Andi shook her head, wondering when she'd finally be able to sever the unhealthy tie between the two of them.

"Since this is still the first time she's worked a national campaign and some of the finer details of her approach are being ironed out." Toby sighed softly. "Andi, I'm sorry. I want to be there for you tonight, and I'll be there right at your side tomorrow—"

"No you won't." Sighing, she finally gave her husband the attention he deserved. "Toby, you won't. I'll be there with you, but your heart will be with them." Her voice softened. "Honey, it's okay. This is your team and you've all done a great job. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll come up around 8 and we can go vote together, okay? I'm at the Watergate tonight if you need me."

"Okay. I love you, Toby. And good luck."

"I love you too, Andi." He hung up and tossed the phone back onto the bed. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. When he opened it, his heart stopped.

He honestly wanted to know how she could make clothes so sexy. A casual black skirt with a slit all the way up her thigh, a long sleeve but low cut blouse, and he could see the lace of her bra peeking out above the button. Not caring who could see them, he grabbed her waist and pulled her against his body, crushing his mouth to hers. This night was theirs, they deserved this moment. It might never get to happen again. He held her close, his hands capturing her against him as his mouth made love to hers.

Neither heard the shutter of the camera.

CJ managed to turn around enough to lock the door behind them, but Toby only pushed her up against it. His hands molested her as his body pressed her into the door – the latch dug into her stomach but she bit her lip. The discomfort only increased the sensations. He still hadn't spoken a word to her.

Toby reached between her body and the door, tugging her blouse open. Somewhere he could tell the buttons popped open, but he didn't care and he knew that she didn't either. One hand roughly pulled her left breast free from it's cup while the other moved up her leg and under the slit in her skirt. Naked underneath, it gave him easy access right to her already wet center. Two fingers pinched her clit while the others teased through her folds.

Her cry broke the silence and her head came back, resting on his.

Toby watched as he fondled her, his rough fingers already leaving red marks on her perfect skin. Some, small, conscious part of his mind screamed, reminding him that he shouldn't be so rough, that the last time someone other than him had treated her like this, she had been raped so badly that her body would never fully recover. But for some reason, a reason he'd never understand, she trusted him. "Touch yourself," he whispered into her ear. "Take your other breast in your hand and touch it, put your hand on mine. Make yourself come." She obeyed him, gasping as their fingers joined under her skirt and only moments later screamed his name as he shoved three fingers deep into her body. He caught her from falling as she trembled around him. When she could walk he moved them both back to the bed, undressing her as they went. His own erection strained against his pants and when she was naked he turned her back to face him, a sly grin on his face. "You want to help me out here?"

She laughed and kissed him first, pressing her naked body against his fully clothed one. "I love you, Toby," she whispered. He stopped, just for a split second, and he knew she felt it. "Oh … God … Toby … I …"

"No." He caught her again, kissing her tenderly. "I love you, Jeanie. I've never stopped loving you. And I'm here with you now and I've been with you these past few months because I love you. And I don't know where we're going or what the hell is going on between us again, but I love you. He couldn't believe he'd actually said it, but God it felt good to get it out.

CJ blinked back tears; completely unsure of how to process what he'd said, she just dropped to her knees, unzipped his pants, and freed him from the constricting fabric. Toby's hand guided her, his fingers tangling in her hair, and she slid her lips down his shaft, forcing back the gag reflex, and taking him completely down her throat. He thrust against her face, moaning as she massaged his balls and raked her nails against his thighs. Somehow, she didn't choke as he exploded down her throat and after she licked him clean, she settled on the bed, ready for him, as he shed the rest of his clothes. The night was just beginning.

"Oh god. Right there. Right … oh god!" CJ clutched the pillows as Toby drove her onward. His hands held her hips firmly in place while he rode her – the only other movement on her end was her own fingers moving against her clit. He rode her, grunting as he moved against her ass, listening as she whimpered his name right up there with God's. Yes, this woman drove his ego onward, and he loved it.

He wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, the small part that wasn't consumed with CJ's perfect smell and taste, if that had been the door to the room opening and closing. It had to be the room across the hall. It had to be.

It wasn't.

She waited until CJ was clutching the pillows for breath before making her presence known. She watched her husband pull gently out of the other woman's ass, dispose of the condom, and wrap her tightly in his arms, calling her "Baby" and "Jeanie" and whispering how wonderful she was, they were. It hurt, physically, to see them together like this, more so than even CJ with her face down in the pillows, her legs apart for Toby, and Toby using CJ's body in ways she never knew he would.

"Well." It was the only word she could choke out.

With effort, Andi kept her eyes away from his as Toby reached for a pillow to put on his lap. CJ at least had the decency to scream and roll off the bed and reach for her robe. "See, I guess I was the surprised one. I mean, I understood, Toby, when you said you wanted to stay in DC tonight. The night before the election, it made sense. I should have known that what you really meant was that you were going to go at it with your ex-girlfriend."

"Andi," he tried.

"Don't even. Don't tell me this isn't what it looks like. How long has this been going on?"

"I won't answer that, Andi."

"Oh, you're gonna. Get dressed, Toby, we're going back to Maryland tonight." She sounded like a mother scolding her teenage child for being out past curfew.

But, somehow, it was CJ who managed to diffuse the situation. "Andi, why don't you let Toby shower." She pulled herself to her full six feet and looked at the other woman. Guilt was there on her face, yes, but also a hard lack of sympathy. Toby, for his part, moved like a dog with its tail through its legs to the bathroom. After a couple of minutes, the water started and Andi tried to rid herself of the image of her husband jacking off. How often had he been in the shower, doing that, and thinking of CJ? "I'm sorry you had to find out like this, Andi." CJ sighed and curled up in a chair.

"Are you sorry I found out like this or are you sorry I found out at all? I have a feeling that you weren't going to tell me you've been fucking my husband."

"No, I wasn't. And …"

"How long, CJ?"

"I won't answer that." She stared at the red head. "But it's been going on."

"I told you once, CJ, that –"

"Oh, come off it, Andi! For crying out loud! You can't live a life based on ultimatums and that is what you do to Toby. And the worst part is, he loves you. No, more than that, he is in love with you. For some reason that I just don't understand, he's been in love with you since the moment he saw you. He worships you. And I had to give that up."

"You gave it up. And yet, you're still sleeping with him."

"Leave her alone, Andi." Toby's voice came from the door to the bathroom. The short shower to rinse himself of the smell of CJ was over, and now he stood there in jeans and a button-up shirt, and just nodded to his wife. "Let's go home and deal with this. Leave CJ out of it. Your fight isn't with her, so don't start." He looked back to CJ, telling her with his eyes everything he needed to say in this moment, and CJ just nodded a bit, knowing that this _would_ be the last time it happened. And after the door closed behind the unhappy couple, she still sat there, staring at the door, wondering exactly where she and Toby got to go from here. If they won tomorrow, she might get a job in the administration. Would she be able to work with him now that this was so fresh? Or, would Andi leave Toby, make a fool of him, and ruin both of their political careers? For a brief moment she wondered if it would have been any better if she'd tried to fill the loneliness with Hoynes instead of Toby and how that would have gone.

It was light over the Potomac before she stood up and went to shower. She'd check out of the room that Toby had taken for the night, head to work, and pray that she could just look him in the eye for one more day.

To Be Continued …

Copyright September 2005


	9. Chapter 9

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, and CJ/Will Sawyer)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills._

_A/N: Toby's calling of CJ by "Jeanie" is inspired by DaniBannani's "Atonement". It can be found on and is a beautiful read. I highly recommend it to all of you._

_A/N 2: This chapter deals directly with what happened to CJ in Qumar. The subject matter is not friendly, and references to rape should bother you. But, this chapter is also about the power of healing and finding strength again after something like this happens. _

Chapter 9 – The Months Prior 

Dragging … pulling … she could hear her heart pounding and her breath ringing in her ears as the sand storm enveloped her, suffocating her … something held her down, pinning her, thrusting into her and she screamed but the sandstorm only raged louder and she couldn't open her eyes and her screams were swallowed up by the wind and the sand and the man above her …

"Let me go! Please! God, let me go!" Slice. Slice. Her veil. Her blouse. Her skirt. "Please, I'll do what you want, please. Please, Naji, let me go." Slice. Her bra. Slice. Her skin.

The sandstorm raged louder.

"No!" Thrust. "God, please, no." Thrust. "Ow! God, no, you're hurting me! You're …" Slap. Slice. Thrust.

Thud.

Thud.

She all but fell out of bed. The clock read five o'clock, she'd been asleep for only three hours, and all three of those hours she'd spent reliving the most painful five hours of her life. She stumbled to the mirror and stared at her reflection.

It had been five nights since she and Toby had made love. The last time had been fun, rough and tumble, and he'd left beard burns up and down her body. The irritation had faded, but today the skin felt tender, and the long faded scars on her body seemed raised and red. Before even jumping into the shower to scrub away the feel of Naji's body ripping her own in two, she reached for the lotion, rubbing the Shea Butter (enhanced with vitamin e) into her stomach and neck and forehead. Before climbing under the scalding hot stream of water, she went to her closet, searching for the outfit she'd bought two weeks ago when she went shopping with Hogan. Before climbing into the steam that would sweat Naji's smell from her pores, she sprayed the room with her perfume and made her bed with fresh sheets, and, as an after thought, pulled a pair of silk scarves from the small drawer by her side of the bed. She laid them on Toby's pillow, and vowed, as she walked back into the bathroom, that they would come back here together tonight.

"Good god, you look amazing."

_Toby stared at her, visibly drooling. It was a night off, a night away from the rigors of the campaign trail, a night to enjoy each other as friends. So they were all going to the hotel bar and drinking and talking about the campaign, but it didn't stop CJ from putting on a short skirt and a tight tank top, and her sexiest heels. Her plan was to tease Toby all night long and make it so that he could barely get up from the table, and when they got back here he was going to tie her up and make her scream. She'd even leave her heels and bra on for him. _

_He closed their room door behind him and even put the chain on, as a precaution. It wouldn't take long to take her before they went down to the bar, he could fuck her with her skirt on and up around her waist. He wanted to bet she was in that black lace thong – he could push it aside. But the local paper that was sprawled across their bed stopped his advance on her. **Local woman found dead, beaten to death by her boyfriend. **"Baby?"_

_She fixed her lipstick and looked at him. "Ready to go down there? Or," she looked at his crotch, "want me down on my knees first?"_

_He sighed, wanting her down on her knees, but instead he just put his hands on her waist. "It's my second favorite position of yours, CJ, but …you okay?" There was something about this skirt, and he wasn't sure what it was._

"_Why wouldn't I be?" Her voice was shaking. _

_He remembered._

"_Because you haven't worn that skirt since 1993 and when you did, it was a night that I took you out on the town. That same night, there was a –"_

"_Shut up." Her hands found their way to his waist. "Just …"_

"_Let me watch you take that skirt off and watch you put on a pair of jeans. That way I won't give us up by killing Danny Concannon or Josh when I catch them staring at your legs. Let me watch you so that you'll be able to hold onto your trust of men for a few more hours. And then when we get back here, I'll do whatever you need me to do." He knew that it would involve tying her hands above her head and forcing her to trust him to not hurt her. _

"_Toby …" She ignored him and instead pulled him back against her, silently demanding that he take her now. Her hands massaged him through his pants, "please …" _

"_Shhh." He kissed her tenderly. "Shhh. I'm right here." And his hands were on her thighs and he did push the skirt up around her waist. It was the black thong and he pushed it to the side while she unzipped him. The others waited downstairs for them as he held her hands behind her with one strong hand and pushed up into her, holding her hips still with the other. It was hard and it was fast and he knew that she didn't come, but that she didn't need to. And while she changed into a pair of baggy jeans, he tossed the newspaper into the trashcan. _

"What's first on the agenda?" CJ took the coffee from Margaret, grateful for the jolt of caffeine. The nightmare still lingered, the edges of the dream clinging to her like the morning fog that had followed her across town this morning after she rolled the top of the mustang down in a pitiful effort to keep the breakdown at bay.

"The Secretary of State wanted five minutes to talk about the situation with Qumar."

"There's a situation with Qumar?" CJ put the coffee down on her desk and shrugged out of the black leather jacket she'd pulled on this morning. The new outfit – the black pants, the black silk camisole, the red blouse, the killer stiletto's, and the black leather jacket – gave her a false boost of confidence; the boost of confidence she would need to get through the day.

Margaret took the jacket and hung it up, still talking, "Apparently. He didn't go into details, but I think it's about the new Attaché."

"Oh yeah." CJ sighed. "Him. I'd been glad they were dragging their feet on things. Qumar can take as long as it wants to get official representation over here."

At times, Margaret loved CJ. Especially now. She was constantly tired, the baby dragging on her last energy reserves, and the sarcasm from her boss helped to get her through the day. "I'd be dragged off in chains, I gather."

CJ snickered a bit. "How are you feeling?" It was harder than she wanted to admit, seeing Margaret blooming the way she was, but she was also glad to see Margaret happy. All she hoped was that Daddy wasn't leaving her completely alone.

"Fine. Tired." She smiled and then got back to business. "Anyway, the Secretary will be here at seven-thirty, and then you have senior staff at eight thirty."

"What time is Toby's first briefing?" She moved back behind her desk, looking through the files Margaret had organized that morning. A few Eyes Only files, the position paper that she needed to now rewrite, a memo from the Secretary of Defense, and the president's updated schedule.

"Nine."

"Move senior staff to eight fifteen, I'll need a few extra minutes with them after I get done with the Secretary. Close my door from two to three so that I can finish this paper, and get me the updated copy of the budget and the Legacy paper. Find me time alone with Leo this afternoon, preferably before dinner, no, make that over dinner. And when am I meeting with the counsel's office?"

"Five-thirty." Margaret couldn't help but grin. "Think we've broken any laws this week?"

"Yes, but I don't think we'll get caught." CJ almost smiled. "And find out if Toby's here yet. If he is, see if he can get up here before the Secretary."

"Okay. You have the president at nine-fifteen, and you also have Greg Brock at noon."

"Lunch, right?"

"Yeah. What's that about?"

"Nothing. Just lunch. Let's have it here, get in touch with him. Actually," CJ sighed and sank into her chair. "Move it to Friday, will you?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, Margaret."

The door closed, and despite herself, CJ jumped and almost spilled her coffee everywhere.

Thud.

She laughed as he reached across and stole one of her french fries. "Damnit, Greg. You..."

"Me, what, hmm?" He grinned. "And it's a good idea and you can't tell me that you aren't intrigued by the idea. Come on, you're the first female chief of staff ever; the first female press secretary. It's a perfect biography."

"Ugh..."

"Don't 'ugh' me. I mean, look at the hit the article was."

"You're going to win a Pulitzer for that Women in Washington series, you know."

"And I have you to thank for it. So, let me win some other awards by writing a biography." He stole another french fry. "I even promise to paint your sexual exploits in a positive manner."

"And how the hell do you propose to do that?" She reached across to steal a potato chip.

"I'm not sure yet, but I'll figure something out. Tell me, are you as good in bed as the rumors say?"

"You'll have to sleep with me to find that out."

Greg cracked up. "Well, there are some..."

"Don't you DARE print anything about Danny." She quickly clamped her mouth shut before she ended up revealing too much about what exactly had happened between her and the Washington Post reporter. But then she remembered this was Greg, Danny's best friend, and she knew that Greg knew full well what had happened. And why Danny had left.

"Ahh, so you've given me permission?" He chuckled and stole another french fry.

"I'll ... I'll think about it, okay? Now, go away. I have a meeting with someone who doesn't like you very much."

Smiling, Greg rose to his feet and rescued the rest of his chips from CJ's sneaking fingers. "Tell Toby hi for me."

"I will." She smiled.

Greg chuckled and headed out of the office. As he came out into what he'd come to call Margaret's reception area, he nodded to Toby, who was just coming in. The two men regarded each other carefully - until finally Toby spoke.

"It was a good series, Greg. Uh," he looked down, "thank you for treating her with such respect."

"She deserves nothing less, Toby." He moved carefully past the Communications Director. "I'll see you in the room."

"Yeah." Toby sighed and walked in. There were other issues to deal with right now.

"So," CJ handed out the first of the new week's assignments, mostly to her deputy, "on the table right now, we have the meeting with OPEC, Cliff I want you in on that and then you report back to me; the meeting with the new delegates – Toby you take that and please, for the love of God, be nice to them." She eyed Toby with a careful eye, letting him know in a quick glance that all the sex he'd been getting since that night at the fundraiser would vanish if he happened to insult anyone. Before she handed over the file, something caught her eye, and she frowned. "So, the Qumari delegation is still dragging their feet on getting Mr. Al-Anan over here?"

"Seems like it," Cliff rolled his eyes. "They're now grumbling about it being an Attaché position rather than a full Ambassadorship."

"They can gain full Ambassador rights back when they stop trying to blow up US Military targets." She made a note on her own legal pad and then handed the file to Toby. "I'll get in touch with Qumar myself, they probably want to weigh in on the oil prices too."

"But with everyone else, I'm supposed to go to the reception and smile and not piss anyone else off?" Toby looked carefully at CJ, as if judging whether or not he could live without those legs wrapped around him. The pain of the reception might just outweigh the joy of listening to her call his name.

"Okay," CJ sighed and leaned back, "what about the journalists who are trapped in Kabul right now?"

"It's an issue of credentials."

"Do we have the names yet? And why they don't have the proper paperwork?"

"No names, but State doesn't have anyone on their records who went without the proper paperwork." Toby looked at CJ, knowing how she felt about reporters. "We have to get them out of there though. I'm sure Will Sawyer is one of them."

"Of course he would be." She sighed and ran through a list of ways to kill her ex-boyfriend. Maybe she'd get all of the reporters except him out of the country. "I'll get on the phone." She paused. "Margaret!"

The secretary poked her head in the door, "Yes?"

"Get me the Secretary of State. Here, in my office. I want to talk with him about the situation with the reporters in Kabul." Margaret nodded and darted off to do her boss' bidding. In the year she'd had this job, CJ had come to understand fully that it was Margaret who ran the country. "Is there anything else?"

Cliff and Toby exchanged glances; CJ wasn't as in the loop of news stories as she'd been when she was in the communications department, and Cliff was new but even he had come to quickly understand how CJ felt about women being oppressed in the Middle East. "There's one more thing," Toby made the choice to fall on the sword. He knew that the White House would have to ignore this, but he also knew that he would be the one to have to face CJ's fury when things were done for the day. "A woman has been stoned to death …"

She closed her eyes, and her pencil snapped in her hand.

_"CJ?"_

_She looked up from her briefing book, scouring the wreckage of today for any kind of good nugget that she could bring home with her. So far, nothing. All of the transcripts talked about the same thing - and she was tired of dealing with pain and death and destruction. No, she thought, closing the book as she looked up at her assistant, tonight is devoted to me, a bottle of red, a pizza from that late night place on Ohio, and a trashy, trashy novel. Tonight wasn't going to be about the country falling apart. Hell, maybe if she got home in time she could catch the rerun of the Daily Show. On occasion it was good to watch Jon Stewart make fun of her. And today, he'd have plenty of fodder._

_"What is it, Carol?"_

_Her assistant held up CJ's personal cell phone. It had been one of those days when Carol held onto every possible way that people could get in touch with her boss. "Anisah is on the line for you. I didn't screen it because well, it's her."_

_Chuckling, CJ held out her hand for her phone. "Thanks, Carol. You've been a lifesaver today. Now, go home and kiss that boyfriend of yours."_

_"Yes, Ma'am." Carol laughed and scooted out of the office before CJ could change her mind._

_"Ani, what's up?" She leaned back in her chair and ran a hand through her hair. Tonight might also be a night for a long, hot bubble bath. Yes, that and a trashy novel. It had been a while since she'd indulged in any kind of one-handed reading. _

_"CJ..." Anisah coughed, hiccupping through the tears that streamed down her face._

_"Oh, God. Ani, what is it? Is Abdul all right?" Abdul had left two months ago for Qumar._

_"He just called ... CJ..." She took a deep breath, "CJ, Hanan is dead."_

_"What?" She felt the blood drain from her body. She looked up, finding the picture she had of the three of them from the last trip to Qumar, had it been only five years ago? Hanan's first son had been born, and they all went to celebrate. Even her husband, a man CJ had never liked or trusted had been open and hospitable. "How?" Her only thought was that she'd died in childbirth._

_"CJ, I never told you why Abdul went to Qumar. He went because he wanted to get Hanan out of there. Her husband beats her, and he ... because of Qumari law, he's allowed to do whatever he wants and Abdul has wanted her out of there since she married Raniq and since he's her cousin, he has some rights. But ... when he tried to get her out the other night, Raniq caught them and ... " the tears choked her again. "CJ they stoned her to death. They accused her of adultery and it was Raniq's word against hers and they took her out in the square and they stoned her to death!"_

_She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. And breathing became difficult. _

_"CJ, I'm sorry ... but it just happened and I..."_

_"No ... Ani..." she choked out. "I ... I'm glad you..." Her hands were shaking. _

CJ jumped, realizing that somehow she had finished the meeting and moved onto the next item on her list, the mess regarding the new Qumari Attaché. It bothered her more than she wanted to admit, that Qumar was taking so long in bringing the guy over here, and that she had already spent weeks on this issue. What the hell did they really want? Today alone, she had spent the better part of the morning on the phone with the Qumar State Department, the Qumari Embassy, and even the King of Jordan, and no one would give her a straight answer as to what was really going on. They claimed it was oil prices, but the sixth sense she had developed over the past year told her that it was something big, something potentially embarrassing to the United States. Part of her thought about retaliation, delaying the process even more, calling up INS and telling them that there was a suspicion of Heroine on Naji's plane. But, at least according to the latest news, Naji would be here in a couple of weeks, and she had until then to figure everything out. When she started working in this building almost eight years ago, she'd never expected that so many of her days would be spent acting more like Agatha Christie and Jack Ryan. So, she opened the letter from the Qumari Government, reading through the translated words, and sighing.

Yes, the US wanted to lower prices on the oil they bought from Qumar. Of course they wanted to. Summer was fast approaching and during the summer people traveled and when people traveled they were more likely to travel further if they weren't paying 3 bucks a gallon for gas. So far Saudi Arabia and Kuwait had agreed to the deal and OPEC loved it, but Qumar was dragging its feet.

"Margaret!"

The tired redhead popped her head back into the office. "Yes?"

"Do me a favor. Call back over to the Qumari Embassy. Clarify with them that when Mr. Al-Anan arrives, he doesn't see anyone but me until I've talked with him. And he goes no where near the President until he's officially welcomed."

"Yes, Ma'am." Margaret noticed the change in her boss' tone and worried at it. Something was eating at CJ, and something that only could be in relation to the situation with Qumar. She knew things in the Middle East were personal with CJ, Carol had let a few things slip over the years, but Margaret still worried that CJ's personal feelings would upset tender negotiations. "And when you're ready, Greg Brock is here to see you."

"It's that time already?"

"Yes." Margaret frowned. Over the past couple of months, Greg had found his way onto CJ's schedule as often as once or twice a day. The meetings were short, but secretive, and it was starting to nag at the assistant. Whenever she asked, CJ just said that it was nothing she needed to know about. But, she needed to know everything. It was important to let the assistants know things. It was the assistant's jobs to protect their bosses and Margaret couldn't protect CJ if she didn't know what was going on. But then again, she told herself, if anything was actually going on, CJ would tell her. Right?

CJ chuckled. "Okay, give me ten minutes to finish reading over this and then send him in."

"Sure." Margaret nodded and slipped out, going to order dinner for the two of them and also to relay the news to Greg about the delay.

She looked over the letter, reading it and re-reading it; the only official statement from the United States, a formal letter of reprimand regarding the stoning death. She'd kept a copy in her desk, pulling it out whenever she had a free moment. This was the thing the world needed to be talking about, this right here, not that tabloid book. It was a human rights issue, and basic human rights were being infringed upon. She was all for freedom of religion, except when it meant that women could be killed for no good reason at all.

"Well, you're all good to go, CJ. Just take it easy and get back into the swing of things. You'll be over this in no time. And I wouldn't try to press charges. Remember, here, a woman doesn't have that right and by Qumari law, they have the right to try and punish you."

"_But I … I didn't …"_

"_Doesn't matter, Little Lady. Just get back on with your life."_

She touched at her scar and sighed. Women were dying, reporters were being held for no reason – at least one of whom she still cared very much for – and instead of debating human rights with the Middle East, she was debating oil prices. What the hell was she doing anyway?

"CJ?"

She jumped and looked up, shoving the letter back into her desk. What was she supposed to be doing now? "Yeah, Margaret?"

"Greg Brock is here."

CJ frowned. "It's early for him. Okay." She waited until Margaret had closed the door behind the reporter to get up and greet him. "That's your business face, Greg."

He looked like he wanted to laugh, but instead he just took her hands in his, bringing them up to his lips. "CJ..." his voice was soft, his eyes full of worried compassion. "I'm coming to you out of professional courtesy and because I care about you too much to watch you take a bad left hook."

"What is it, Greg?" She tugged her hands away.

"I have it from Arab News that --"

A million things rushed through her mind, but somehow she knew what he was going to say, and the very thought sickened her.

"They're saying that the reason it's taking so long for Naji Al-Anan to take his place at the Embassy is that you are holding up his appointment with red tape. You're holding up his appointment because of an affair you had back in college that ended badly so this is personal. CJ, I have it, the Post has it, and it won't take long for the news magazines to pick it up and turn it into something worse than it already is."

She sank into her chair, trembling. "Greg, I..."

In an instant he was at her side, "I want your permission to write the counter story. Give me the exclusive. CJ, I know what happened; I know what he did to you. CJ, I was there, I ... let me write what really happened."

She looked at her old classmate and shook her head. "What are you going to write, Greg? I mean, come on ... the last thing I need is to paint a picture of me as a victim." She took a deep breath. "And anyway, it's a lie. It's a flat out lie. They're the ones dragging their feet and it's all over oil prices and the fact that we're calling him an Attaché and not an Ambassador!"

"I know that, but they're still painting you as …" he sighed and looked into her blue eyes, "You aren't a victim, Ceej. You're a survivor. You made it through and look where surviving took you. How many young women out there need something like this to show them that even though it's not okay, you can still move on."

"I'm not going to have what he did to me --"

"You would rather they call you a whore?" he looked at her. "You've already got enough going on with that stupid ass book that's about to hit the shelves. Don't add this to a list of --"

"Greg!"

"CJ! Think, for just a minute, like the White House Press Secretary. What would you tell yourself to do?" He sighed, his heart breaking as he watched the emotions cross her face. CJ reached up to touch the scar on her forehead and Greg was back there with her and Anisah and the rest of their class as they watched CJ limp onto the plane, her head held high.

"CJ?" Greg tried to move closer to her on the plane, but when he sat next to her she pulled back and Anisah shook her head. CJ hadn't spoken to anyone, and the only person at all she let near her was Ani. But even that connection was dim. Greg just stared at this girl he'd played strip poker with, the girl who had danced the dance of the seven veils at the last all nighter they'd had before coming here, and he realized that that girl was never, ever coming back.

"Greg, it --"

"It's an election year, Ceej. Any other time this would be two news cycles, tops, and those of us in the news world would get to move onto real news. None of us give a shit what Arab news is saying. At least, the legitimate ones don't care. But, this gives the conservatives a chance to paint a picture - they don't have a reason to take down the White House. The President's numbers are the highest they've been in years; things are running smoothly, so they find a scandal. Anything to make the Dems look even more divided than you already are. And here's the perfect shot. There's this book coming out that paints you as the queen of the political casting couch, add to it Arab news is talking about an affair that you had with Naji Al-Anan and that because he broke it off, you have used that to make your case for your political hatred of the Middle East. More than Fox and the Washington Times will pick it up and before you know it, your sex life will again be out there for everyone. And people will start digging. It's an election year and if the Republicans can't win on the issues, and they can't, they'll try to win on scandal."

Choking on her tears, CJ tuned her head, not wanting to hear it. "I can't, Greg. I can't put what I went through out there for the American people to see. I can't."

"Make it something positive, CJ. I mean, you can..."

She snorted, "I can make this an issue for the campaign. Suddenly violence against women is at the forefront and every Democrat who wants to be nominated in a few months has to talk about it. It brings women's issues to the forefront in the Middle East. Greg, don't you think I haven't thought about this every day for the past eight years! I can't, Greg. I can't. He tortured me! It was a game for him! I was a game! And now he's strutting around, letting the world think that I seduced him and ... I'm not going to put myself through this again. I can't!"

"CJ," Greg took his old friend's hands again and made her look at him. She flinched, at first, from the touch but then softened. "CJ, Sweetie, listen to me. You have to say something. You have to. And this is your chance to be vindicated. You and every other woman who lives every day thinking that they aren't good enough because a jackass of a man had to show how much more important he wasn't. This is it, CJ. Let me do the story. We'll get RAINN in on it, and make this about survival, not victimization. And we'll do it on your time. CJ, I can't watch them trash you like this anymore. Please."

She took a deep breath and looked at him. "I need to discuss it with the communications director."

"Yeah." Greg gave her a gentle smile. "I'll see you later, okay."

"I'll call you." She tried to return the smile, and failed.

"Danny says hi, by the way. He wanted to call you when the story broke, but..."

She shook her head. "Yeah. Tell him hi for me too." For a long minute after Greg left, she stared at her desk, seeing only blood and tears before her eyes. "Margaret!"

The younger redhead poked her head into the office, "Yes?"

"Bring Toby and Cliff in here. And tell Debbie I need to see the President as soon as he's back from lunch."

"What's going on?"

CJ looked at Margaret and realized just how much all of this was going to affect her too. "Sit down a sec, will ya? And close the door." Margaret did just that and waited, patiently, for her boss to start talking. "I never really thanked you for getting this book before it hit the printers. It lets me know what to expect ... but there's something else that is about to break, and it's about me, and I need to tell you the truth because I guarantee that what you hear on the news isn't going to be it." Margaret blinked a few times, feeling the rush of butterflies in her stomach.

"Toby?"

He looked up and actually smiled at his assistant, "Yeah, Ginger?" He wasn't really working right now, he was admittedly writing bad love poetry that CJ would never see.

"That was CJ's office. She needs to see you, pronto. Oh, and Carol sent over the latest round of wire reports. She highlighted something about Qumar, but I didn't read it."

"Thanks." Standing up, he took the reports from Ginger as he headed down to CJ's office. The highlighted story made him stop in his tracks and he could only thank God for Carol's knowledge of what would matter in the world of news. Oh, God. Oh sweet God. He didn't want to have to be the one to tell CJ this; part of him hoped she already knew and that was why the impromptu meeting, but if she already knew then again he had failed to protect her from this bastard.

_He groaned inwardly to himself as he walked down the hall to her office. She was going to die, absolutely die. He didn't know the details about the arms packages and deals with the Middle East, as a rule he tried not to pay too much attention. The politics of the Middle East tended to anger him as much as they did CJ, and for a lot of the same reasons. _

_From the hallway, he could hear the laughter of her daily meeting with deputies and staff assistants. Any one of these people would most likely see a microphone today, and they had to have responses to quotes made from both opposition and allies. Sometimes it was harder to respond to the allies. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference. He leaned in the doorway, watching her lean over Carol to stab a piece of cheese, and couldn't help but look at those perfect legs. But hitting on her wasn't going to get either one of them out of this situation. _

_"What's next?"_

_She sounded tired. She'd been tired for weeks, and he knew that she hadn't been sleeping. This was only going to add to that._

_"We'll need a response to Kendall's charge in the Weekly Standard."_

_She sighed. God almighty. "What did he say?" And was it anything of importance?_

_Ed tried to hide the snicker as he quoted, "Our education reauthorization package has more pork than a pig-pickin' festival."_

_"A pig pickin'-festival." American kids needed an education, and he was blocking it. Go figure. "More and more I'm in favor of English being the national language." What the HELL kind of language was "pig-pickin"?_

_Larry was laughing as well, and hating the Chairman as much as she was. "It's worth knowing that Kendall is pushing for four new charter schools in his district. One of which is..."_

_"Named after him?" Oh the day couldn't get any better._

_"Yes."_

_"Thank you, Santa. How about..."_

_Toby interjected. He had to. Maybe if he could start the ball rolling slowly, slam her with it, and then make his quick escape, he could get away with not having to look too deeply into her eyes while he went ahead and broke her heart. "How about 'it's pretty hard to get at all the pork when the Chairman is hogging the trough.'" Good, she laughed._

_"What else?"_

_Time to plunge. "You better be briefed on the arms sale to Qumar because the Pentagon leaked it."_

_"Qumar?" She wasn't sure she'd heard him right._

_"Yeah."_

_She still wasn't sure she'd heard him right. "In the gulf?"_

_Larry's "Is there another one?" Jarred her back to reality and she stared blankly up at Toby. What had he just told her?_

_"No. We lease an airbase in Qumar. It's a ten-year lease and it's up and they won't renew without an arms package. You writing this down?"_

_Looking up at him in absolute disbelief, CJ stared at the man who was technically her boss. "No. When did we make an arms deal with Qumar?"_

_"I really don't know." He tilted his head at her, begging her to not start now. He knew she was hurting. He knew it wasn't only what had happened to her there, but that she felt Hanan's blood on her hands. But they couldn't bring that here. This was national defense, and the department of state wanted the airbase there. "What does it matter?"_

_"What does it matter!" Did he just say that to her? Really and truly? Did he just tell her that it didn't matter that the United States was selling guns to rapists and killers?_

_"Yeah." CJ, please don't look at me like that._

Their eyes met as he came into the office, and he suddenly didn't care that Cliff was sitting there, looking confused. _God, CJ, please, don't look at me like that. _She knew and she had to tell them about this and do it without breaking down. And right now he didn't care that Cliff was sitting there and he walked over and put his arms tightly around her. "It's gonna be okay, CJ," he whispered, rubbing her back gently. "I promise, it's going to be okay."

_"What are we selling?"_

_"Don't start." Please, CJ, he begged silently. Don't start._

_"What are we selling?" She took a deep breath. _

_"What are we selling?" He looked down at Tanya and wondered if he could hide behind the junior staffer._

_Seemingly oblivious to her boss' anger, Tanya rattled off the list, "Fifteen AMRAMMS, 50 M1-A1 tank kits, ten F-15's, and Patriot Missiles for $1.5 billion and they renew the lease."_

_She felt the words as a blow to her stomach. Her head was hurting, her legs ached, and she could hear Hanan's screams for mercy in the back of her mind. It was as if her own government had killed a defenseless woman. "Don't start? What the he --" but she caught herself. She couldn't do this in front of her staff. But she'd remind Toby of exactly what she was feeling. Taking a breath, she looked at everyone, "Anything else?"_

_The staff chorused "no" - mostly to get out of there before the fireworks started._

_"Thank you."_

_Toby ducked out ahead, his head bowed with guilt. He wouldn't be able to look at her right now, and it was probably best that way. But he heard CJ call out for Carol, and knew that he was in trouble. He kept walking, knowing that CJ would get him when she was good and ready._

"I can't believe that you're doing this." Tears choked his voice as he whispered to her, in between kissing his way across her naked back. His fingers traced her ribs, her spine, her hipbone.

"Toby, I have to. If I don't..."

"Putting yourself out there ... CJ ... after what he did to you..."

"It's why Greg is the only reporter who can tell it. He was there, and I know he, for once, won't be objective." She rolled over, letting the sheet fall to the side. Toby took advantage of her skin and bent low, trailing his lips down her neck and to the valley between her small breasts. His beard tickled her skin, causing goose bumps all the way down to her toes.

"I want to be there with you. You shouldn't need to relive this alone."

"I relive it alone every day, Toby."

He looked up and cupped her cheek in his hand, "You don't need to. I'm right here with you. And every time you feel it, I feel it too."

"I know," the tears she'd been fighting all day rose up and this time she didn't try to fight them. "I know."

Toby had his arms around her in an instant, cradling her tightly against his body while he stroked her hair and tried to be reassuring. Feeling safe and secure in Toby's arms, CJ let the tears come, the sobs wracking her exhausted body. And Toby just stayed there, caressing and stroking, until she gave him back the trust he needed too, and again he moved over her, making tender love to her.

Dawn broke to find Toby alone in bed, and the smell of coffee drifting from the kitchen. Through the haze of residual sleep and the sounds of NPR on the bedroom radio, CNN coming from the living room and Fox from the kitchen, he sorted his brain out enough to realize they were all talking about the Arab news report. That alone woke him up completely and he jumped out of bed, yanked his boxers and a t-shirt on, and hurried to the living room to find his girlfriend hunched over the counter in the kitchen, staring blankly into her coffee cup. On the television, a Fox pundit was ranting about the loose morals in the White House and that CJ Cregg was a perfect example of why women were a bad idea in politics.

Angrily, Toby slammed off the television and went to CJ, being careful to not touch her lest it rip her painfully from the flashback he knew she was experiencing. So he stood next to her, waiting until her breathing started to return to normal. Only when she looked at him, tears streaming down her face, did he move to take her into his arms.

"What's doing, Claudia Jean?"

She almost laughed. Days like today she usually loved her job. The President was finally starting to respect her, and the world wasn't falling apart as much as it usually was. "Sir, I need to talk to you about something." The blow to the gut from the news programs early this morning still weighed heavily, and it was about to get worse. She wondered if he already knew – she hadn't been able to talk with him at all about this yesterday, but his attitude told her that no, he didn't know.

Hearing the sadness in his Chief of Staff's voice, Jed Bartlet's demeanor changed and he looked up at her, frowning. "CJ, what is it?" He moved to sit on one of the couches, motioning that she do the same.

"Sir..." CJ tucked her skirt tightly around her legs, finding that she wished she'd worn pants, and not realizing until this moment just how scared she was. Still trembling from Toby's silent fury and Cliff's stunned shock, she was still locked into the look of horror on her assistant's face. Margaret's tears had flowed freely, for just a second, before she nodded and reassured CJ that all would be taken care of. But nothing could shake the look in Margaret's eyes. "Arab News is reporting a story that is completely false and yet that we ... we have to not only comment on, but allow for a story."

The President blinked. "Why on Earth do we need to clarify a false story on Arab News?"

"Because it's about me, Sir." She choked again, feeling like she had twenty-five years ago when her father had picked her up at the airport in San Francisco.

"You!" Jed sat up straighter, still looking carefully at CJ. She wasn't his Chief of Staff right now, but his daughter, and she was obviously scared about something.

"Sir, they are reporting an..." she literally choked on the word, "affair ... between Naji Al-Anan and myself. Fox news has already picked it up, the word is that because of my personal feelings toward him, the post has been held up."

"The posting is being held up because they're complaining about how we're defining his role here, about oil prices, everything. You've been remarkably silent over all of this … which actually surprises me. Why?" He tried to reach out and touch her hand, but when she flinched and pulled back, he started to put the pieces together. "CJ..." his voice dropped to a whisper.

"It was hardly an affair, Sir. I ... I spent a summer of my graduate years on a tour of the Middle East, working with women's affairs units and learning about the politics of the region. The session ended in Qumar, where I became friends with a young woman named Hanan. Hanan had an older brother who was quite charming..."

"Naji Al-Anan."

"Yes, Sir. On what was the beginning of our last week in Qumar, Naji came up to me ... we were at a coffee house with our chaperones but he managed to get me out alone with him ... I was..." she closed her eyes, again feeling the hand around her throat and the knife in her stomach. "He dragged me back to the dorms and attacked me, Sir. I ended up with a shattered ankle, two broken ribs," she rattled off the injuries with a robotic monotone, separating herself from the never ending pain, "five stab wounds to the stomach, cuts on my face and neck that required stitches, and enough scarring ... that..." she choked again and stared at the floor, the bald eagle looked up at her with vacant eyes.

"My god..." Jed tried again to lean forward and touch her, but when he got close enough, CJ pulled back, almost violently. "CJ. Why didn't you..."

"I hope you can respect, Sir, that I was trying to not have to go into detail about why I didn't want him to have the job. My issues with him are personal, not professional. His credentials are such that there is no reason that he shouldn't have this job."

"No, they aren't. Not if he is capable of something like this. CJ..."

"I'm sure that his staff leaked this so that there would be no way he could loose the posting. If we take away the job now, it will be because of the so-called affair. If we..." she choked and rubbed her forehead, doing her best to remain strong in front of her boss. "We have to comment. Sitting still makes this a tool for the conservatives and they can talk about loose morals in the White House. That is what the campaign will be about and we'll loose in the biggest landslide in history."

"CJ ... how can we hope to comment when..." He could feel his blood pressure rising. The woman sitting across from him was no longer his Chief of Staff, but a frightened girl whose life had just been taken from her. How on Earth was he supposed to be diplomatic to this man? "Why can't we find a way to press charges or something..."

"It happened in Qumar, Sir. A woman has no rights there." When she looked at him, she was again locked behind the brick wall that no one could scale. And it was that look that made Jed realize just why she fought so hard for the women who couldn't fight for themselves. Every time a woman was raped or beaten, CJ felt it.

Jed Bartlet sighed and stood up, needing to pace since he couldn't kill something. He should have blown Qumar off the map when he had the chance. "What is your plan?"

"Greg Brock wants to do a story. He's an old friend of mine as it is ... he was actually on that tour with me and he'll be able to be delicate. I do the interview ... become the poster girl for the Violence Against Women act, and try to move on with my life. I'll get slammed for it; there will be a number of publications that will say I'm trying to make myself look like a victim in all of this. But there's no way the right will be able to play a viable morality card and not loose points with the women, and the story will fade."

"CJ..." he looked at her again. "Are you sure you can do this?" Every time he looked at her, he saw her standing, as she was, strong and confident, but this time, covered in bruises and wounds. He wondered why he'd never seen that strength in her before.

"No." She looked at him, "but I have to." Slowly, she rose to her feet, trying to control the trembling in her knees. And this time, when the President approached her, she let him enfold her into a strong hug, and for a very brief moment, she even let the tears well up in her eyes.

"I'll make a comment on the record," he whispered softly. "You aren't alone in this, CJ."

"Thank you, Sir." She stepped back, tried to smile, and slipped back into her office to call Greg herself.

_Sighing, she looked at him, "I don't know how many more times we can get caught keeping a secret." Yes, she was still pissed over the MS thing and how many other secrets they'd been caught holding on to. Sometimes, it was more important to just let the people know, wasn't it? Wasn't that the best course of action?_

Her eyes darted back and forth between the paper sitting on her desk and the file folder in her hands. Yet another secret, something else she needed to know everything about but could tell no one. This time the secret involved American reporters trying to tell the stories of the people in the Middle East, reporters whose lives were threatened.

_Leo looked at her carefully, judging in his mind the millions of ways she'd grown since taking the Press Secretary position. She was cut out for better things, he knew, and now was maybe a time to actually teach her something. "Sometimes that's what we're supposed to do." _

_To his surprise, she stopped and nodded, accepting that. "All right." And CJ did accept it. It was, sometimes what they were supposed to do and it was her job to hold onto the knowledge and let the press know about it in a responsible manner. The Bartlet Administration didn't lie to the people. _

_"Thanks." He dismissed her, but somehow knew that she wasn't done yet. Whatever was eating at her was about to explode._

_"Listen..." She turned back to him._

_Here it came. "Yeah..."_

_"Not for nothing," she did her best to hold onto the tremor in her voice, "but three weeks ago a woman in Qumar was executed for adultery. She didn't need a lawyer because there wasn't any trial. It was her husband's word against hers."_

_"Yeah." He'd heard about that; a lot of the women's groups had been pissed about the US not stepping in. But they hadn't had time to step in and say anything, and it was one more thing on the list of reasons for him to hate the country. But he couldn't take it personally, and CJ couldn't either. Even if, somehow, it was bothering her more than it should have. _

_"Later today I'm going to be announcing that we're selling them tanks and guns."_

_He just shrugged._

_He just shrugged and she felt her whole world implode. First Toby had been so cold about it when he knew, when he shared her pain over this, and now Leo just shrugged it off. Take a breath, CJ, just keep on going. "Okay." She nodded and stormed out, remembering that in the White House she couldn't start beating people._

It was a front page story, above the fold, two beautiful shots of CJ, one from her days in college, another from the other day, her sitting at her desk, looking completely powerful and in control. The headline stared back at her, **Rumors Abound Through a Painful Truth. **

"Please, Naji, please … I won't fight you, I'll let you do what you want, just please, don't hurt me anymore … please …"

She couldn't read it, she wanted to, she knew that her entire staff and the President were reading it, but she couldn't. She'd lived it, she continued to live it, and she didn't need to know the rape statistics of women in the US versus women in the Middle East. It was hard enough to look herself in the mirror every day, knowing that her government sold weapons to people like this, that the government she helped to run furthered the economies of countries like this as they bought oil from them. She didn't need to look at the picture of her right before Qumar, all smiling, back when she still believed in innocence.

He stared at the article, his eyes locked onto the headline, as if reading further would only confirm what he'd known for twenty years. He didn't need to read about how Naji had forced her into that small dorm room and literally sliced her clothes from her body, he knew it already, he knew it every time he undressed her. He didn't need to know that women even in the United States were still often encouraged to just move on with their lives and not press charges because it was always the woman's word against the man's, and the women were the ones taken out and left for dead in a court room. He didn't need to relive his guilt for not being able to stop something he hadn't been there for, he lived it every day, he'd lived it yesterday and this morning, and every day this week as CJ sobbed into his shoulder, begging in her own way for the talk shows to stop talking. He hadn't been able to save her, and he still wasn't able to save her. They were still selling weapons to Qumar and buying their oil, and he still hadn't said anything when he'd had the chance, a long time ago. He'd stood there, silently, and told her to just knock it off and not to start and to just - as every other man had told her over the course of her time - to just get over it.

_"Mr. Ramsey, I saw on your information you were in the 10th Armored Division."_

_He stood a little taller as he recited off, "Private First Class, Tenth Armored Division, Third Army, Second World War."_

_"You fought in the Battle of the Bulge, Sir." She stood a little taller too._

_"Yes, I did. My unit broke through the German seventh army's buffer, which was critical in winning Bastogne. That was the moment we beat the Nazi's on the Western Front."_

_"That was a hell of a moment."_

_"I have a granddaughter like you, she's a chemist." They all moved to sit down, which made Toby even more uncomfortable. He knew CJ was up to something, but he wasn't sure what. All he knew was that it could only end badly for him._

_"Can I ask you to imagine something?"_

_Here it comes._

_"I suppose."_

_CJ looked at Toby out of the corner of her eye and saw him looking back. He was fuming, irritated that she was wasting his time. Back at you, asshole. "Imagine if you weren't as successful as you were. Imagine, say," she was glad for her knowledge of history in this moment, "that Hitler had taken Antwerp and we'd lost the Battle of the Bulge and Germany held the Western Front."_

_Barney shook his head. "It wouldn't have mattered. The Russians crushed them on the Eastern Front. They wouldn't have won the war."_

_"No, but even if the Russians had kicked them out of Poland, Hungary, and Bulgaria, they could have held onto France, maybe kept Italy. Certainly they could have defended Germany."_

_"Yeah..."_

_She geared up for this. Please, please Toby, don't derail me. "Now it's six decades later and while they didn't conquer Europe, the Nazi's exist as a recognized government in some small corner of the EU."_

_Ramsey shook his head, "Never would have happened."_

_For a minute, CJ was floored. "Really?"_

_"They killed a quarter of my unit. They killed a third of my classmates from Erasmus High School. We never would have allowed --"_

_"We did it in Cambodia," she shot back._

_"CJ, knock it off." Toby's voice was low, signaling danger for her. She ignored it._

_"You're protesting because you think the Smithsonian isn't paying proper respect to what you and the soldiers of the tenth armored, third army risked and lost your lives for six decades ago. How would you feel, in the hypothetical I just described, if I told you that at my press briefing at the end of the day, I was announcing that we were selling tanks, missiles, and fighter jets to the Nazi's?"_

_The older men looked stunned, wondering what in the hell she was talking about. Toby, for his part, stood up and glared at her. "Excuse me. Step outside." He waited until the door was shut behind them before trying to appeal to the tiny part of her that still loved him. "Look --" he didn't get very far._

"You know," her voice dripped with venom, "if I was living in Qumar I wouldn't be allowed to say 'shove it up your ass', Toby. But, since I'm not, shove it up your ass, Toby." She threw him a look and stormed down the hall, just trembling with rage. How dare he, how dare he not acknowledge this. And it wasn't even over what had happened to her, even though she felt it right now. Hanan was dead because she had tried to escape her abusive husband. Hanan was dead and her own administration was rewarding the people who killed her with tanks and guns. They were constantly in debate with China over human rights, there were sanctions on Cuba, and Qumar got tanks and guns. Women were dying and no one cared. No one.

He tossed the paper onto his couch and picked up the phone, punching a few buttons, and when Margaret answered, and patched him through, he said the only thing he could ever think of to say. "I'm sorry. I love you."

"_Don't ask me what I would have insisted on …"_ Toby sighed as he closed the door to his office, after telling Ginger to hold all the calls and cancel his four o'clock appointment. It wasn't fair, it wasn't. David was dead, and these astronauts had a chance to come home and to come home safely and nothing was going to be done because some asshole said that national security was more important than three men's lives. And how did they know that China and Russia and India didn't already have this kind of technology already, or that they didn't already know that the US had it. Security leaks usually only went to prove that everyone knew everything about each other already.

Maybe he could get Hutchinson to say something, maybe they could send the shuttle up, and maybe they wouldn't have to kill off the Cosmonaut. Maybe he could appeal to the little bit of humanity that had to be left in the Secretary's soul. Maybe.

Sitting down at his desk, he opened his lower desk drawer and pulled out the file. He'd found it a couple of weeks ago, when he'd gone up to help Sarah go through David's things. Stuffed back in the back of his personal file cabinet was a manila folder with a small piece of paper holding a few names and an acronym, a couple of grainy pictures of the inside of something, and a three paragraph memo, signed off by David and three other scientists that the experiments they'd done had proved in no way, harmful, to the test subjects. He couldn't go to the press with this, it was too small. But maybe, just maybe, he could get Hutchinson to talk. Maybe he could figure something out. He couldn't let this go on; he couldn't let three innocent people die. He picked up his phone and dialed over to the National Security offices, he knew that Hutchinson would be around.

"CJ Cregg's office." Margaret now knew the true glories of caffeine. Between the restless nights of her pregnancy and her boss, there was no time left for sleep. At times she still considered walking away, with the money she was getting from Bruno she could afford to stay home for a while, but this was too important. The work she did here, it was more important than anything else in the world, she truly believed that.

"Is she there?"

Margaret had come to know Greg's voice. "Yeah, I'll connect you through." She was confused - Greg had written the story, he'd done the interview, what else did he need? It didn't look good for him to keep calling like this. CJ's affection for the press was the biggest downfall of this administration. After debating with herself for a minute, she listened in. She hated doing it, but she had to know everything.

_"Hey..."_

_"You left your glasses at the table this morning. You want them?"_

_"Drop them by the office today. I have about thirty pairs here." She chuckled a bit. "Thanks for the pancakes, they were good. And Ella is just getting so big."_

_"Yeah, she is." Greg grinned. "You free for lunch tomorrow?"_

_"I'll find a way to be."_

_"Great. Kiss Toby for me."_

_"I'll kiss him, I just won't tell him it's from you."_

_"I don't think he'll mind the extra kiss."_

_"No, he won't." She laughed. "Thanks for the heads up."_

Margaret blinked as she disconnected the lines, by now, Greg's calling at odd and random hours was habit, she just wished she knew why he was doing it. But that train of thought was derailed as the staffer from Homeland Security came in with the files that CJ had requested. All Margaret knew about it was that she'd typed up two memos for CJ to sign, each with identical wording save the actual file number requested. Both were sealed. After a minute, she gathered her strength and headed into CJ's office. It was going to be a long day, that much she already knew.

He arrived too late to save the wine glass, but managed to get to her before her grandmother's china ended up in shards around the kitchen floor. "Claudia!" He cried, grabbing her hand before she could hurt herself. Instead she whirled on him, pounding against his chest, the sobs ripping through her body as twenty years of buried pain broke through the surface and assaulted her all over again. He wanted to know what was wrong, what had happened between the White House and her apartment, but something had snapped. "Claudia Jean!" He shouted her name, grabbing her to him, and holding her as the initial rage subsided, leaving her with only angry tears. She clung to him, sobbing, and Toby didn't even know if she knew it was him there at all.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered after a while, still clinging to him, "I just …"

"What?" Toby cupped her chin in his hand and drew her lips to his in a brief kiss. "CJ, whatever you think you have to apologize for, don't. Please, just don't. I can't take it anymore. What is this?"

She shuddered. Only alone, with her, was he this gentle. He'd never hurt her, he'd never break that sacred trust they held so dear. He'd never violate her and then use it against her. "It's stupid." She started to move to get up, but her hand went right down into a pile of glass shards and she screamed, frightened by the sudden blood on her hands.

"Hey," Toby whispered, standing them both back up. He took her into the bathroom and washed out her hand and gently bandaged it with the gauze he found in her medicine cabinet. For a minute his eye caught her case of birth control pills, and he wondered if she'd taken her pill already today. But CJ probably took them in the morning, and he didn't want to mess with anything by even trying to ask her the basic questions right now. He needed to know what was wrong. So he bandaged up her hand, eased her out of her work clothes and into a nightgown, and moved her to the bed.

She let him move her, barely feeling the touch of his hands as he undressed her and put her to bed. She wanted to talk to him, to let him know, but every time she tried, her mouth remained closed and it was just her mind that screamed. She was going crazy. This thing, this whole thing with the story about the rape and the accusations of the affair and the crap with Qumar … she couldn't take it. Her life, a life that she had tried so desperately to keep quiet, was now out there for everyone to see. Everyone now knew what she really was – weak and vulnerable.

Toby wanted to go call Anisah and have her talk him through this, but he just settled in the chair by the bed and held her hand. CJ stared at him with blank eyes, her breathing shallow, and he let her ride this out, knowing that soon something would break and she'd be his again and he could find out what had sparked this.

"The plane leaves Wednesday, Ceej … and we'll be heading home."

_She stared, blankly, at what was left of her hands. "Home?"_

"_Yeah." Anisah sighed. "Don't be mad, but I called your father. I know, you aren't talking to him right now, but he … CJ, you need him right now."_

"_My father?" Blank blue eyes looked up and through Anisah. "Why?"_

"_Because he can get you a good therapist and be there for you. CJ, you're going to need your family … your brothers … everyone." Anisah put her hand on her best friend's broken shoulder, a feather touch that still made CJ flinch. "CJ, you can't just withdraw and repress this. You know that."_

"_I'm not repressing …" her voice seemed bleak. "We leave Wednesday?"_

"_Yeah."_

"Wednesday." Her voice was a whisper.

"What?" Toby linked their fingers, careful of her hurt hand. "Baby?"

"We leave …" she stopped and realized she was talking to Toby. The night came back at her in a rush and she sat up, jolting away. "God, Toby … I'm sorry."

"What is Wednesday?" He asked.

She shivered and reached for him, desperate hands clawing at him, needing to get closer. His shirt tugged over his head and she ran her fingers through the hair on his chest, reassuring herself that it was Toby who was holding her. "I have a meeting …" her voice rasped.

"With who?"

"Him."

The air in the room grew colder. Toby reached down and pulled the blanket that was folded at the end of the bed over both of them, and he held CJ even tighter. "Do you want me there?"

"Do you me to walk down with you?" Greg stepped up next to her, and almost put his hand on her back. It hovered a few inches away until CJ moved and faced him.

"_No. I … Go on... I have to do this myself..." _

"No. I can do it." She closed her eyes and willed the room to stop spinning. "Toby …"

"Yeah, sweetheart."

"I need to tell you something."

"What?" He stoked her cheek and then moved his hand down her body, tracing her neck and the valley between her breasts before it came to settle on her abdomen. Her skin was warm tonight, glowing, and he worried she was starting to get sick.

"I never told you what happened that second time. When I saw him again."

"He threw you down the stairs so hard that your body, already scarred and trying to rid yourself of the baby anyway, suffered a miscarriage."

"What?" She looked at him, wanting to know how he knew.

Toby just shook his head, "He hurt you and he hurt you twice and if you don't think I know that it's his fault we lost our baby, then you haven't learned that I can read your mind just by reading your body language. It didn't take a doctor to figure out the bruises on your arms. And you may be klutzy, but even you don't fall over a small pebble. He pushed you and..." Toby pressed his forehead to hers. "But you're completely free of it now. Really, CJ, you are."

"No, Toby," she whispered, still holding him as if her life depended on it. "You don't understand. I'm never free of it. I'm over it and have been since I met you, as over it as someone can be anyway. You made me safe and whole again. You made me able to love again, and let myself be touched again. You are everything that helped me get over what he did to me. But I'm never truly free of it. I can make love to someone, someone besides you even, and trust that they won't hurt me, but there will always, always be this part of me that is there, on that floor, feeling his thrusts over and over and screaming and knowing that no one can hear me. Toby, thousands upon thousands upon thousands of girls are over there right now, lying on a bed, feeling that thrust and being powerless to stop it. I got out, I got to go home. That is their home. We support a country that allows the rape of innocent girls. We support a country that treats women who are raped as adulteresses and then publicly stones them to death. As long as we support that government, I will never be free of it." She took a shaky breath. "Islam isn't what those monsters have made it in to. And until we rise up against them like we did against Germany, like the north did against the south, until we end this slavery, I will never be rid of it. Ever." And she didn't let go of him, and she never intended to. Ever.

"What?" CJ blinked and looked at Susan. "How … how is that possible?"

"It's not common, but it …" Susan gave CJ a tired smile. "CJ, you've missed close to a week and a half of your pills. And I'm also guessing that you had missed quite a few over the past month, it's been a stressful month. But, the blood tests show, conclusively, that you're pregnant. And that's something you have to face because your body is going to be looking to get rid of that baby. The scarring in your uterus is still there. Add your schedule to that, and the fact that you're anemic …" she just shook her head. "You need to make a decision, and quickly, before this baby becomes even more of a health hazard."

"You think …"

"It's not my place to tell you what I think. It is my place to tell you that your health, and the health of your child is in jeopardy. You are almost forty-five, this is a second pregnancy after the first one ended in miscarriage and caused even more scarring than what was done to you during your rape. The chances are very possible that not only will this end with a miscarriage, but it will end causing you even more health problems. Frankly, I'm impressed that you even managed to conceive."

"Well … Toby apparently has impressive sperm." She closed her eyes for a minute. Right now, Toby was out playing with Huck and Molly. He had his children; he didn't need something like this to complicate his life … their life. They'd barely found a way to be together again and now a baby? Adding this to the mix would only … she couldn't do it. Maybe if she disappeared, she wouldn't have to … she … "How long do I have to decide?"

"You're going to start getting sicker. It is early, but I'm sure this is the reason for your nausea. You're probably going to start experiencing it even stronger, and your body is going to start to tire. You average what, three hours of sleep a night? Maybe four? If you don't start getting six to eight hours a night, you will collapse. Your heart rate is up because of your caffeine intake; this means your heart _will_ start to show signs of stress. CJ, if you keep this baby you have to resign, as soon as possible, and get into bed and stay there until you give birth."

"How long do I have to decide?" She repeated the question.

Susan sighed. "A couple of months and it will still be an easy procedure."

"Okay." She wrapped her arms around her waist, closing her eyes against the dizziness. She was going to go home, Cliff could handle the day. "Okay."

"You must be sick."

"Hmm?" CJ looked up from the book she was curled in to. Toby stood in the doorway to her living room, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a loose denim shirt, looking as sexy as she'd ever seen him.

"You're reading for pleasure. You're not in the office. What's wrong?" He ducked his head and grinned.

"I had a doctor's appointment this morning, remember? And I decided afterward to just take the day. It is Sunday, after all." Trying to keep the mood light wasn't going to work for long. Toby knew her too well, and she couldn't just blame this on Naji.

"Yeah, it is." He walked into the room and sat next to her. He took the book and looked at the page she was on. "Did it matter then, she asked herself, walking toward Bond Street, did it matter that she must inevitably cease completely; all of this must go on without her; did she resent it; or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely? But that somehow on the streets of London, on the ebb and flow of things, here, there, she survived, Peter survived, lived in each other, she being part, she was positive of the trees at home, of the house there, ugly, rumbling all to bits and pieces as it was; part of people she had never met; being laid out like a mist between people she knew best, who lifted her on their branches as she had seen the trees lift the mist, but it spread ever so far, her life, herself." He sighed and looked over at her, "This book is bad for you." She laughed and leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. Toby slipped his arm around her and held her close, wondering what was bothering her. She was shaking. "Jeanie?"

She just snuggled closer to him. "I love you, Toby."

He smiled. The words had been exchanged already, but neither of them were ones for random displays of emotion like that. "I love you too. What is it?"

"Nothing." She lied. "Just that. How were the kids?"

The pride was evident in his voice as he spoke. "Running all over the place. And Molly is just talking a mile a minute. I can't understand anything she says at all, but she's talking."

CJ shared the smile, and her free hand moved to cover her own abdomen. She could hear the news shows now, crowing about how Toby couldn't even practice safe sex, let alone have the right to talk about it. They'd be cheering about how she really was the queen of the political casting couch, and she knew the President would never look at her the same way again. But they thought they were being safe – CJ honestly had forgotten that her birth control pills needed to be refilled.

"I never expected to fall in love with you like this again." Toby smiled and kissed her forehead.

"You fell out of love with me?"

"Yeah … I mean …" he blushed. "No. But when Andi came along …" it was hard to be honest with her about Andi, but there was a reason he still wore his wedding ring, and a reason that he'd chased her so much when she was pregnant. For as much as he worshipped CJ, in so many ways it was Andi he was in love with. But being here, with CJ, made him realize that he'd always been meant to be here, right here, with her in his arms. "When Andi came along, I did realize that I could love someone else. I mean … we had decided it was better to be apart and I didn't think I could move on and …"

"Yeah … I know what you mean." Images of Danny floated across her mind for a minute, but she brushed them away.

"Still, there's something about you Jeanie. Something that makes you and me make sense. When you're with me …" he chuckled, "you know, it was a mistake to let you leave New York that first time."

"To let me?" She chuckled a bit.

"Yeah. I mean, I should have put my foot down and thrown you over my shoulder, and dragged you back to my cave."

CJ laughed and then looked into his eyes. "But you are in love with me again, hmm?"

"Yeah."

"When did it happen?"

"When did I fall in love with you again?"

"Yeah."

He smiled softly. "Three days before you went to Dayton for your reunion. You were standing in the doorway to your office and you were wearing this short black, pleated skirt and a red blouse and these low pumps that make your legs look even longer than they already are. And you'd snagged your nylons on something and you were standing there on one leg, inspecting the snag, giving a quote to Katie over speaker phone and it was graceful and it was perfect. That was when I realized that I'd always love you, no matter what, and that I was in love with you again."

Somehow, that admission hurt more than she wanted to admit. "Yet, you kept going after Andi …" He had been in love with _her_ but had kept pursuing Andi. The truth stabbed through her stomach like a knife, and she started to curl away from him. He had been in love with her, and still going after Andi. Nothing had changed between them. Nothing. It had been this way in '91, '93, during the campaign, and now … She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Regret started to make it's way into her spine and she felt the cold tendrils reaching into her blood stream. What the hell were they doing? And why was she letting herself love him like this when it was only going to break her heart? She needed to back away, get rid of the baby, go back to just being friends … but her internal monologue was interrupted by his beautiful brown eyes meeting hers again.

"I didn't think you wanted me anymore. We're always headed for a crash and burn when we're together. Always." Toby stroked her cheek. Something was wrong.

"Yeah, we are." She slipped an arm over his stomach and snuggled closer to him, despite her sudden desire to turn and run. "It's not really healthy."

"No." He held her tighter. "I want it to be, though."

"Will it ever?" She sighed and blinked the tears away.

"I don't know." He looked at her. Something really was wrong. "Would you ever leave me again?"

"I don't know." She had to answer honestly. "Would you?"

"I don't know." He sighed. He had to answer honestly.

"Toby … is what we do to each other really worth it?"

"You mean the broken hearts, the endless drama, and the trauma we seem to endure whenever we're two feet away from each other?"

"Yeah."

"I think so."

"Why?"

"Because when I look at you, everything makes sense." He looked into her eyes.

CJ melted and reached up to kiss him. He was right; she shouldn't have left New York. And when she pulled back, tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Toby, there's something you should know …"

"What is it, Baby?" His arms moved down, sliding around her slim waist.

She'd rehearsed it a million times since coming home, but the words just slid out of her mouth and she heard herself saying it, and suddenly found herself regretting it. The cold tendrils slipped lower, into her abdomen.

"What?" He was sure he hadn't heard her right.

"Yeah … I … I forgot to refill my prescription and when I went back they had to do a pregnancy test, just to make sure and … " her eyes were a mixture of emotions that Toby couldn't name.

He just grabbed her against his body, burying his face in her shoulder. The tears came freely, absolute joy that they were finally able to do this for each other. A baby. A child of theirs. And what did it matter if they could never be sure if they wouldn't leave each other again – they would always be together, somehow. He had her heart and she had his and they were the other half of their souls, and now, finally, after all this time, their souls had again combined. A baby. His baby. Their baby.

And he'd just told that baby's mother that he couldn't promise that he'd never leave her again.

CJ stared at the file Margaret had brought in earlier this morning. The CIA file on Naji Al-Anan was laid out in front of her, including the documentation of her rape. Yes, it was in there. They'd known years ago what this man was capable of, but instead of noting him as a sexual predator, they noted him as potentially dangerous. She wanted to rip her hair out, she wanted to cry, she wanted to puke on the hundred dollar black stilettos that hurt her feet but made her look like she could literally kick the world's ass.

_Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear Carol calling for the press to take their seats. Tucking her hair up in its clip, she headed into her office and stopped when she saw the National Security Advisor standing there. "Hey, Nancy." She was sure she could blame Toby for this. He would have told Leo, and Leo told Nancy and now she looked like an emotional idiot._

"I hear you're troubled by the arms sale?" Nancy, as usual, jumped to the point. She was used to butting heads with CJ, but something else was troubling her friend. "The Nazi's were a bad analogy. We're not fighting a war with Qumar."

_"Well..." CJ walked to her desk and began organizing folders. God, she couldn't sneeze around here without everyone finding out. "This isn't the point, but we will. Of course we'll be fighting a war with Qumar one day and you know it. So, well, at least we'll be familiar with the weapons they're using."_

_"We need Kalifa airbase - we refuel there and we keep AWACS radar." The excuse sounded flimsy, even to Nancy, who had advocated for the renewal of the base on those reasons._

_"We don't need it. It's convenient."_

_Nancy almost blinked. CJ was smarter than people gave her credit for - what the hell was she just doing as a Press Secretary. Then again, having a smart Press Secretary was the secret to a successful administration. "CJ--"_

_"We don't need it!" CJ was completely fed up. Completely. "We've got Turkey. We've got Bahrain. We've got Diego Garcia. Qumar's convenient."_

_Nancy had to concede the point. "Yes, it's convenient."_

_"They beat women, Nancy. They hate women. The only reason they keep Qumari women alive is to make more Qumari men."_

_"What do you want me to do about it?" Nancy got the point, but what the hell could she do about it? Right here, right now, what could she do?_

_"How about instead of suggesting that we sell the guns to them, suggesting that we shoot the guns at them. And by the way, not to change the subject, but how are we supposed to have any moral credibility when we talk about gun control and making sure that guns don't get in the hands of the wrong people? God, Nancy, what the hell are we defining as the right people?" She couldn't believe that she was hearing such apathy from the National Security Advisor._

"CJ?" Margaret looked at her boss, wondering from where CJ was managing to pull the strength to do this. Margaret knew that if something like what CJ had gone through ever happened to her, that she would never be able to do something like this. But here she was, standing up and fixing her skirt and then sitting down again, as if preparing for the fight of her life. It was the fight of her life. And Margaret had never been prouder to work for someone, except the time Leo had walked back in the door, his first day back from rehab.

"He's here?" CJ closed the file.

"Yeah."

The White House Chief of Staff closed her eyes for a brief moment, summoning her strength. "Send him in."

It had been twenty years since she'd last laid eyes on this man. Then, he'd cornered her in a stairwell, taunting her, pressing up against her. This came after he'd hauled Hanan away from her and beat her publicly for daring to speak to an Infidel. And then CJ had been caught alone with him as he'd shoved her against the rough stone. No, this time he hadn't violated her, he hadn't needed to. That power was there just in a look, and she'd cowered until he'd thrown her down the stairs. She'd told the doctor on the plane that she had indeed fallen, that she'd tripped on a loose stone.

Twenty years and now, as she stared at him, on her turf, she could only tremble. This man had been responsible for Hanan's death, and CJ was sure of countless others as well. This man had been responsible for stealing her child from her. But this was her turf; she had to show her strength. She wasn't going to let him get to her.

_"This is the real world and we can't isolate our enemies." Time to teach this smart woman something about foreign policy._

_"I know about the real world and I'm not suggesting we isolate them." No, I'm suggesting that we drag them out into the public square and strip them naked and beat them to death with stones so that they'll know what these women feel like. And then we'll make them feel like it's their fault. We'll make it a game for them. _

_"You're suggesting that we eliminate them."_

_You said it, I didn't. She started to walk out. "I have a briefing." Nancy followed._

_"You're suggesting that --"_

_"I'm not suggesting anything! I don't suggest foreign policy around here!" _

_"You are right now."_

"For all the trappings of the White House, they could send a man to speak to me."

"This isn't Qumar, Mr. Al-Anan. And I'd watch your tone with me."

"Or you'll what," he snickered, and CJ saw the look in his eyes. He taunted her, daring her to show some spark of emotion. "You cannot send me packing, as you Americans would say. If you do, it will be --"

"You made a mistake, Naji." CJ leaned against her desk and crossed her legs. The knee length skirt she'd chosen for today was a direct affront to him, to his culture, and she intended to insult him as much as possible. "You see, Americans get over sex scandals, especially when it comes to ones that happened in other countries. The book that is hitting the shelves in a couple of weeks, a book that happens to name me and a couple of other people here in Washington as whores and playboys will get more attention than your little news story. And, your little news story led to a big news story here, one that has helped to fund the Rape Crisis Centers across the country. Yeah, Naji, and I'm sure that you know this, I went on the record. It's too bad we can't fire you. The women's groups are already demanding it, and this White House tends to listen to the Women's groups. It's really too bad for all of us that relations with Qumar are so tense right now and only your government can fire you. So, we're stuck with you. But, let me tell you something you smug jackass. The first time I even hear the hint of any kind of impropriety with your office, the country of Qumar will no longer have any kind of diplomatic representation with the United States." For a second, her eyes drifted to the open door between her office and the Oval Office. It somehow gave her strength to know the President could hear every word.

_"It's the twenty-first century, Nancy, the world's gotten smaller. I don't know how we can tolerate this kind of suffering anymore, particularly when all it does is continue the cycle of anti-American hatred, but that's not the point either!"_

_Nancy stopped them dead, hearing CJ dance around the point but needing to hear it. "What's the point?"_

_"The point is," CJ met her eyes, "that apartheid was an East Hampton clambake compared to what we laughingly refer to as "the life these women lead" and if we had sold M1-A1's to South Africa fifteen years ago, you'd have set the building on fire! Thank God we never needed to refuel in Johannesburg!" No one cared. Not even the women. No one cared! When it came to race and men being run over with tanks, the US was first on the lines, but women could stay behind the scenes and die! _

_For a long moment, Nancy held CJ's gaze, wishing she knew what had happened to the other woman to make it hurt just so much. This was personal, and CJ was letting her emotions get in the way, but she was also smart and she'd done her research, and CJ was exactly right. She would have set the building on fire. But that was fifteen years ago, when she wasn't National Security Advisor, and sometimes, moral absolutes didn't exist. Sometimes you made choices that were wrong to keep the majority of the people safe. And she, more than anyone else in this building, lived in that gray area of foreign policy where she wanted to do the truly right thing, but had to settle for the morally right thing. "It's a big world, CJ," she said, trying to be angry rather than sympathetic. "And everybody has guns. And I'm doing the best I can." She was. She really was trying to, anyway._

"You can't do that," he threatened, slightly taken aback by her lack of fear. Could she do that? Could she, this mere woman, threaten him like this?

"Oh, yes, I can. Now, I won't, not without reason, because we need your country. I mean, I've been trying to get us to pull out of the lease in Kalifa, but I tend to get shouted down by the National Security Advisor, and that takes some shouting, believe me. But, Qumar has oil and Qumar has Kalifa, and as the Chief of Staff for this White House," she emphasized her job title, "believe me when I tell you that I understand just how important those resources are."

"They're beating ... the women, Nancy..." She just stood there and watched as Nancy walked away. And Nancy was right and CJ knew that but it didn't change the fact that Hanan and countless other women were dead. It didn't change at all what Naji had taken away from her all those years back. But she had a briefing. The world went on. And she couldn't get up there and voice her opinion, an opinion the press would be well aware of. So she had to go in there and not loose it. If she could get through the next hour she could go home and cry. "Good evening." She smiled at the pressroom, half filled with her usual devotees. She loved these people. "We have two birthdays today so we have cake. One cake," she laughed along with them, "it's nice to share. Quickly, before I take questions, a late addition to Monday's schedule. The President will be at the opening of the Smithsonian Exhibition commemorating the sixtieth anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. That's at three in the afternoon and I'll have more information on Monday morning. Labor Secretary Carl Reed will brief from this podium in one hour's time on our school to work initiative and ... let me check," she pretended to scan her schedule. She knew how the HHS briefing would be handled and she wasn't pleased, but they couldn't lend suspicion the megaphone of the White House. "Yeah while that's going on, there'll be a briefing at the Department of Health and Human Services by USDA Director David Rheingold. Sometime Tuesday you'll be briefed at the Pentagon - the DoD will be announcing that we've renewed our lease another ten years at the Kalifa Air Base in Qumar. I understand they've promised to paint and add new carpet." She almost lost it, almost. But when she looked up into the back corner, there stood Toby, his eyes searching hers. He crossed his hands over his heart, their long established signal, and she could see the tears in his eyes. He didn't like it any better than she did, and they'd been unfair to each other all day long. She took a deep breath, controlling the rise in emotion, and looked back to her notes, still hearing the laughter from the Press Corps. They'd gotten the joke - good for them. "A delegation from ... State ..." she took another breath. "and the UN will be sitting down to go over some last minute language for Vienna and for that trip, we'll have your schedules ready middle part of next week." Another breath. "Who's got questions?"

He opened his mouth to speak, his own reasons for coming to this meeting leaving his head. A woman had never in his life threatened him and he wasn't about to let it start now. Especially not by this American slut whom he knew how to control. He took a step forward, fire flashing in his eyes, but stopped when CJ just smiled at him.

"Try it, Naji." She spoke softly, her voice low and deadly. "Go ahead and put your hands on me. Go on, I dare you. And then try to get out of here without getting arrested or killed. There are secret service agents in the hallways, not to mention the military guards outside my door. They're expecting you to try something, in fact, they want you to. It gives them a chance to kill you."

The Qumari Attaché looked into the emotionless face of the woman in front of him and, for the first time since he'd entered this building, he began to get scared.

"It's too late for us to turn back your credentials. Believe me, I want to, but it isn't worth the fight. You're a member of the Royal Family, and since we killed your sultan's brother, we figure we can't keep pissing you guys off. So you're staying. But you touch one woman, or even look at me like you just did again, and I swear to god, I have no less than ten agents who all have bullets with your name on them." She glared at the man, trying to keep up bravado, "In twenty four hours the President is officially welcoming you to this country. And then I never want to see your ass in this building again." She took a breath, "Now, what was it you wanted to discuss with me?" CJ stayed right where she was, perched on the end of the desk. The lack of movement was all bravado, if she tried to walk, her knees would buckle.

"We," Naji found his voice lacking, "the State of Qumar brings a complaint to the White House regarding the oil reserves that lie on our border with Iraq." It was the first of many complaints, but this one was at the top of the list.

Somehow, CJ moved back around behind her desk and nodded that he take a guest chair. Naji looked around for a moment before sitting down, and as he looked to his right he saw that the open door that he'd originally ignored led directly into the Oval Office and the door was open, and behind a huge desk sat the President of the United States. Suddenly, Naji felt small, insignificant, and knew that the choice he'd made to try and make her look bad had suddenly just blown up in his face.

_Somehow she fielded the questions from Katie and Steve and Mike and Mark and she didn't break down at all. Somehow she didn't let her feelings slip, and somehow she made it out the door. Toby was waiting for her. He followed her to her office and closed the door behind them and took her into his arms. "Jeanie..." he whispered._

For a minute she stiffened against him, but her resolve weakened and she dissolved, clinging to him, and the tears just came. He held her while she sobbed, his own tears falling to the top of her head. "They're beating the women, Toby..."

"I know, Jeanie ... I know..." He rocked her softly. "And I don't know how to fix it..." Her sobs only intensified. "Shhh ... come on ... pull yourself together and I'll take you home."

Toby stared, blankly, at the folder in his hands. Questions he'd already asked himself still spun around his mind, _had David been planning on leaking this information already? Had he just known about it? Had he been in far deeper than anyone realized in the development of this shuttle?_ Toby wanted to know, but David had never kept a journal, and he always deleted e-mails. He'd been a good government employee. But this paper alone piqued his curiosity more than the conversation with CJ the other day in her office. He had told her to not ask what he would have done, because the idea was already planted, it had been planted the minute he'd found this folder and this piece of paper.

The acronym stared back at him and he started to piece it together and it started to all make sense. But he needed more; he needed more to save these astronauts. He knew by now, after seven years of serving alongside Josiah Bartlet, that the man was a good man, but also a politician. And Toby knew that even though the president was living and dying with every minute, that he would also never send the shuttle up to retrieve the American astronauts. The Cosmonaut was as good as dead. No, the President would never send the shuttle because too much was at stake. But the President's brother was living and breathing and helping to build the library in New Hampshire, and the President wasn't feeling the pain of the families of the astronauts on that station. David had been set to go up on a scientific mission sometime this month, but then the cancer had struck.

The teasing, conspiracy theory voice in the back of Toby's head made him want to think that it had been a plot and that David had been murdered. Or, David had killed himself because the knowledge of what he was doing to help weaponize space was just too much. But Toby knew better than that. David had killed himself because he couldn't, he wouldn't handle the cancer. It was too much. He'd chickened out.

He wanted to know what David had been planning with this information. But he never would. Now though, with this in his hands, it all made sense. He stared at his phone for a minute and then picked it up and then put it down again. The phone would be traced, and he needed a release of information. Hopefully his clearance was high enough to get information about this code. If it sent off red flags and CJ was alerted, he was doomed. So, he took a breath and turned on his computer. He couldn't even have Ginger or Bonnie draft this. No, it had to be all him. No one else could be involved. And if he found what he thought he was going to find, he'd be able to save three lives. At least, he hoped. There were times to be politically superior and times to be morally superior, and now was one of those times and if no one else saw it that way, they could be damned.

He retrieved the memo himself, he signed it, stuck it in an envelope, and walked it himself down to the NSA office. And he waited while the paperwork was searched, while they double-checked his credentials, and while no one said a word. No records were taken, no photographs. This was a world conducted in secret - the more people knew, the more panic would ensue. And Toby knew that, but it still didn't stop him.

The clearance worked. Somehow. And the staff aide came back with a thick file and Toby took it and walked back down the hallways to his office. In a world conducted in secret, no questions were asked as long as the security codes were high enough. He could have the file for two hours. He only needed one. The file he had in his hand was proof enough. Naji was still in CJ's office, and he just needed to get this to Greg and then make it to CJ before she started breaking things.

The communications bullpen was silent as he came back in. Only a few desk lamps caused any illumination, even though he knew Anabeth was still here, somewhere, talking to her late night gaggle and Ginger had gone to dinner. Time was limited.

Ginger's desk had one of those scanner/copier/printer deals - she'd set it up herself for her own computer since Toby printed so much stuff through her. Grabbing paper from his own stash, he loaded her printer, and then sat at her desk, skimming through and finding the proof that Greg would need. A one-page summary of the shuttle's existence and the acronym that matched the piece of paper in David's folder. He slid the paper into the copier, hit copy, and waited. The sheet spurted out, far too noisy for Toby's liking, and then it was silent again. He slipped the page back into the NSA file; he put the copy into the folder on his desk, and walked back to the staffer. Again, in silence, he returned the file and he knew that no one would mention this again. Even when the story broke and the investigation began, no one would know that he had been the one to take the file.

It was simple, really. He would catch Greg, who had stuck around to make sure CJ would be okay, give him the file and then head up to make sure that she was going to be fine. He could save the astronauts, the cosmonaut, and David's memory.

Five minutes until the meeting was done, he needed to get over there. Standing, he took a breath, reminding himself that this was the right thing to do, that it was what David would have wanted. With effort, he pushed away the images of CJ and Andi and Molly and Huck … he pushed away flutter of excitement he'd been feeling since CJ had told him about the baby. He pushed away everything except David's memory.

He stepped into the press bullpen and walked slowly toward Greg. Somehow it seemed fitting that he'd be leaking this information to this man. Over the past few months, he'd come to not only respect Greg, but trust him. And he knew that of all the reporters out there, save maybe Danny Concannon, Greg would be honest, objective, and be just as willing to die for a story.

He took a step forward and took off his glasses.

Yes, Greg would be willing to die. He'd go to jail to protect a source, he'd protect CJ, and if the truth ever was revealed, he would take care of CJ when Toby couldn't. One more step and he would have Greg's attention without having to call his name. Just as with everything else, this could be conducted almost in secret. He wouldn't have to say too much, just enough to leave him the folder; he'd be able to save the lives of these three men.

"Of course I'd die to protect the sanctity of any NASA program, Toby. Just like you'd die to protect the White House. The work I do with NASA's science division is touchy, and if anyone got his or her hands on it, we'd be screwed. Completely."

"_It's just a job, David. And every time you put yourself up there, you risk that death …"_

"_I'd die for the program, Toby. I'm a soldier. Just like you."_

"_I'm not a soldier, David!" He turned away from his brother, frustrated._

"_Yes, you are. You took an oath, Toby. You took an oath to protect the sovereignty of this country, of the constitution. Get off your moral high horse for one second and remember that there are 350 million people out there who are counting on you! And just like you did, I took an oath. I took an oath to protect NASA and to protect my job and to protect the people of this country. So yes, I know something you don't. But you do know it. And neither of us can say anything. So get off your high horse. Someday, Toby, you're going to fall. You're going to fall off that horse and break your neck and no one, not even CJ, will be able to protect you."_

_I'd die to protect all of NASA's information … I'd die … I'd die … _The words rang in his ears and he stopped cold, understanding why it was that he couldn't do this. But it was too late to back away, Greg had seen him, and the reporter's inquisitive eyes were now on him. "Hey, Greg." He coughed and then tried to smile. The folder stayed at his side, crumpling in his tense fingers. "You aren't in Anabeth's late night gaggle?" David would have died to protect this information; he needed to be able to do the same.

"Nah. Really, I'm here to make sure that CJ's okay. But you probably knew that. She'd kill me if she knew I was staying, but …" He sighed. "Damn, if you'd seen her back then…"

"Yeah." Toby twitched. "The meeting is almost over, so I should get up there. I'll tell her you're here, though. How's the book coming?"

"It's great. Did you need anything?" He looked over at the file in Toby's hands.

"Nah. Nothing. See you later." He turned and hurried back to his office, dropping the file on top of his laptop before heading up to the main offices. He'd position himself outside the Roosevelt room entrance, that way Margaret wouldn't know he was in there. And, if she did know, she'd know enough to ignore him.

The Defense Secretary walked back through the corridors, frowning. He needed to touch base, make sure those notes for the speech tomorrow had been looked at. The communications department was silent, rare for the West Wing, only a couple of lamps still burned over staffer's desks, so a few people were still here.

The office of the Communication's Director was open, and he walked in, deciding to wait. But he'd never been a patient man, so he started to pace, and his eye fell on a file on top of the laptop. Curious, he opened it, and felt his eyes widen in a shock he hadn't felt in decades. Not since the pullout in Vietnam had he been this surprised over anything. There, in black and white, were handwritten notes, memos, and copies of materials made from a classified NSA file. There, on top, was a note, scrawled in the Communication Director's handwriting telling whomever this was meant for that this was the proof his editor's would need.

This, this could bring down this smug, superior administration. This, right here.

He didn't know if Toby planned on actually leaking this information or not, but the intent to do something was obvious. He chuckled softly, took the file, and headed out. The speech could wait until tomorrow; this was too good to be true.

Moving back, silently, through the hallways, he found his way to the press area (why hadn't they ever moved the damn gaggle across the street?) and found Greg Brock's laptop. He set the file down on top, and then kept on walking. No one had seen him.

Carol looked up at a soft noise, a footfall, something. But the pressroom was shadowed and quiet, the only noise at all coming from the adjoining room where Anabeth was holding her late night gaggle with her handpicked cream of the crop. It was late, and she wasn't sure what she'd heard, probably just Greg or Chris coming back to get something. Stepping out into the hall, movement caught her eye and she looked back to see someone walking back down the hall, down toward the exit. She frowned, wondering what he'd been doing here. No one from his office ever showed his or her face in the pressroom.

Ginger smiled as Leo came into the communications bullpen. She'd always loved the older man, and had genuinely missed his presence around here when he'd been sick. "Hi, Leo. Toby ran up to meet with CJ for a second I think – he was gone when I got here at any rate and so I can only assume that's where he got off to."

"That's fine. I can wait. No problem." Leo grinned at the young redhead and for a moment missed the days when he'd have been chasing a girl like her. Back in the day when you could tell when a girl was with another girl just by looking at her. He knew enough of the rumor mill to know that Ginger had been dating some woman from Senator Clinton's office for quite some time now. But he still thought she was beautiful, and that alone made him even lonelier.

Sixty-three feet to the oval office, fifty feet to the Roosevelt room. He paused, leaning against one of the doors, pretending to write. It wasn't uncommon to see the President's Chief speechwriter out and about, muttering to himself while he was working on something. And it was late, and few people were even left in the building.

The door to CJ's office opened and he looked up, seeing CJ leaning back against her desk, trying to catch her breath. But his attention was caught by the man leaving the office – and he looked into the eyes of the man who had ripped CJ's life apart. The hatred he felt for the man burned across the short distance between them, and Naji actually looked down. CJ had managed to shame him, to find her feet again, and now Toby had his turn and he wanted to cross the few feet and take the man and beat him into the ground. And the look the Secret Service escort gave him said that the other man would hold Naji down if Toby wanted to take a pass at him. This was the man who had raped and beaten the women he loved, who had taken their child from them, who had killed Hanan, who still haunted CJ's dreams. Somehow the two men made a connection, and Naji understood whom, exactly, he was looking at. He wanted to smirk, to tell stories about how CJ had begged for it, but he also knew that both the man behind him and the lover in front of him, would kill him.

Toby stepped into CJ's office, hurriedly shutting the door behind him before he could race back out there and beat the crap out of Naji. He crossed over and wrapped her tightly in his arms, pulling her away from the adjoining door to the Oval Office – a door she'd just closed. "Baby …" He kissed her until they were both completely breathless. It was their rule, to never have contact like this in the West Wing – work and personal had to be kept separate, but tonight he didn't care and he didn't care if it would move mountains, he needed to remind himself of the present, of the things here, of her. He needed to rid this office of the presence of Naji, and to again claim CJ as his own. It was cave-like and beneath him, but he needed her around him. He needed to hold her and make her come and make sure that she remembered that she loved him. He needed to purge the guilt of almost leaking the information to Greg. He needed to love her.

CJ gasped as his hands pushed her skirt up, and his fingers worked her legs apart. "Toby …" she started to protest, "Toby, no." The air around them stilled and Toby pulled back, a question in his eye. "I want …" She touched his cheek. "Just hold me."

"Of course." He moved his hands up her body and brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. "You okay?" He still wanted her, but something had just changed, and he knew it. Suddenly they were freer, more comfortable than they'd ever been with each other. CJ just put her hands on his shoulders and then slipped her arms tightly around him. Toby pulled her close against him, holding her, protecting her.

"I'm fine …" she was trembling, but really, for the first time since that night in Qumar, she really was fine. Pulling back just far enough to capture Toby's lips with her own, she kissed him, passionately; the couple stayed that way, kissing, touching, holding each other, healing. For the first time, they didn't need sex to heal, they just needed each other.

As Toby kissed her, feeling her body come alive against his, he said good-bye to David while she said good-bye to Naji. His hands wandered, fondling gently, until one palm came to rest on her abdomen. It didn't matter what happened tomorrow, right now, they were together.

"Hey, Leo." Greg opted to cut through the communications bullpen in an effort to see Ginger. He'd been harboring a crush on her since his first days in the White House and he knew she was seeing someone else, but a guy could dream. Ginger was indeed at her desk, but the man in charge of the Democratic Convention was sitting in the Communication's Director's office. Any chance for a small story about the convention could be news.

Leo closed the file he was looking through and nodded. "Little off the beaten path for you, Greg?" He liked the guy, and since the story he'd done on CJ, had developed a real sense of respect. The way he'd treated CJ had made him a hero in Leo's book. But, the guy wasn't supposed to be here without reason. "Looking for Toby?"

"Nah, just ran into him actually. He was on his way into see CJ." He chuckled, but kept to himself, not knowing how much Leo knew about their relationship.

"Then it will be a few minutes." Leo chuckled. CJ had accidentally spilled the beans during dinner a couple of months ago, and Leo was still, honestly laughing about it. The look on her face had been one to treasure as she blushed and tried to fumble her way through an explanation.

"Yeah." Greg tried to peek down at the file Leo was holding. "So, how's the convention planning coming?"

"I'm flying out tomorrow morning to get everything set up." Leo laughed and handed Greg the file. "Here, that will help."

"Any movement yet on who the nominee will be?"

"I'm not talking about the nominations with you, anything I say will end up in your paper tomorrow."

Greg laughed and nodded. "True."

"But, there's information in there for you," Leo nodded to the file he'd just handed Greg, "about some things CJ has given me the authorization to leak."

"Can't get rid of you, can I, Greg." Toby chuckled a bit as he pushed past the reporter and into his office. Greg, and Leo for that matter, were both smirking at him. "I know you've got a reason to be here, Leo, what the hell do you want, Greg?"

"Oh, I came by to actually flirt with Ginger." Greg waved the hand holding the file at the two men, "I'll be on my way." Greg laughed and waved and left. Toby rolled his eyes, turned around, and stopped cold.

The file that had been on top of his computer was gone.

"What did you need again, Leo?"

**To Be Concluded …**

Copyright November 2005 

_The Rape and Incest National Network __ Dalloway_; 1925; Virginia Woolf


	10. Chapter 10

**Dark History**

By: Shauna Kayleen Brock

_Pairing: CJ/Toby (with eventual references to CJ/Hoynes, CJ/Danny, Toby/Andi, CJ/OMC, CJ/Will Sawyer, Toby/OFC, CJ/Simon, and J/D)_

_Timeframe: Started following Drought Conditions, but gives eventual spoilers back through the beginning of time. :-) Er, the Bartlett Administration, rather._

_Rating: The entire series is being posted under "Adult", even if the chapter isn't, because of dark imagery, sex, language, and other … joys._

_Disclaimer: These guys don't belong to me. They may talk to me, but they are the property of NBC, of John Wells, were created by Aaron Sorkin, and I don't get a penny for writing any of this. If anyone wants to sue, they can have my student loans, my credit card debt, and my medical bills._

_A/N: I was reading a fic a while back, where Toby called CJ "Jeanie". And the idea stuck with me and I can't for the life of me remember the story, but I liked the nickname, so I'm using it and this is as close as I get to being able to credit her.) _

_Disclaimer 2: I never ever put a note like this in my stories, but since some people are sensitive to it – this chapter deals with some things that happened to CJ while she was in Qumar. And there's nothing graphic, but there are mentions of sexual and physical assault. And yes, these mentions are. So, just fair warning to people._

_Literature References: Mrs. Dalloway (V. Woolf, c, 1925); Life Before Man (M. Atwood, c, 1979)_

_It seemed to her as she drank the sweet stuff that she was opening long windows, stepping out into some garden. But where? The clock was striking – one, two, three: how sensible the sound was; compared with all this thumping and whispering; like Septimus himself. She was falling asleep. But the clock kept on striking, four, five, six and Mrs. Filmner waving her apron (they wouldn't bring the body in here, would they?) seemed part of that garden; or a flag. She had once seen a flag slowly rippling out from a mast when she stayed with her aunt at Venice. Men killed in battle were thus saluted, and Septimus had been through the War. Of her memories, most were happy._

Excerpt from Mrs. Dalloway (V. Woolf, c, 1925)

Chapter 10: The End of History 

She'd majored in English, minored in communications, had a Masters degree in mass communication and another in public polling and public speaking. There had been a time when, on Sunday mornings, for fun she had read through Webster's - just to challenge her mind. She had no unearthly word to describe the blow to her body as she listened to Toby confess. She'd known, and she'd been ignoring it, and now, now she ... move, CJ. Move. She got up, picked up the phone, told Margaret to get someone from the counsel's office over, and then hung up and looked into his eyes. Her best friend, her lover, her soul mate, was sitting here in her office, telling her that he'd been the leak. What did he expect, absolution and forgiveness just because she loved him with everything she was? Well, he had it. And somehow, once this black hole of nothingness wore away, she'd be able to see that. But right now, all she could think was that he had ... "We really can't say anything without counsel present." She interrupted his apology. God, how could he have done this to them? Nausea washed over her and she leaned in the window, trying to keep the coffee in her body. She had to keep moving. She had to keep moving. She had to keep breathing. Somehow, she had to keep breathing. Her stomach hurt. She bent over, sick, forcing the bile down, staring at him, communicating with him, the conversation they couldn't have verbally taking place just with their eyes. Somehow, through it all, though the tears in his eyes and the numbness in her body, somehow, she kept breathing.

**1997**

They didn't speak as they entered the house, it was odd for them, to exist in silence – their life together was about words, verbal thrusts back and forth, debate; he never knew how to read her. But, when Andi didn't tell him to stay at the bottom of the stairs, he followed her up to their bedroom but stayed in the doorway as she went to the bed and sat down – on his side of it. She didn't look at him for a long time, and even when she finally spoke, her face was turned away, looking at the picture he kept of them on his side of the bed. It had been taken on their wedding day.

"I love you, you know." He leaned in the doorway, watching her.

"I know," Andi's voice was soft, "which is why I don't understand how you could do this to me. Toby ... I've lived through late night phone calls and you running out to see her whenever she needed it and I even lived with the fact that you two were rooming together on the campaign. I actually deluded myself into believing that you weren't sleeping together." She sighed and pulled off her wedding band, just looking at the diamond. "It started in LA, didn't it? When you went to go visit her, to bring her onboard? You slept with her then, didn't you?"

"Yes." He still watched her. "Andrea, I didn't ... I didn't go out there with any intention of it happening. And she didn't seduce me either. It just ... happened."

"No, it didn't. But I'll believe that the two of you didn't have any intention for it to happen then or for it to continue like it did. That much I'll buy." She touched the rim of the diamond with her fingernail. Tears filled her eyes. "I don't get it though, Toby. You are this paragon of honor and value. You go after those who do exactly this. And I know how CJ felt after she made that mistake with John Hoynes."

"How did you know about that?" Toby's voice darkened. No one was supposed to know about that.

"I listened in on the phone conversation." She sighed. "Don't get mad at me, you don't have any right and I was feeling insecure and jealous that night. You left our bed at two in the morning and spent three hours on the phone with her. After a while, I got mad and curious."

Toby just nodded.

"Did you ever have sex with her here?"

"No."

"Did it go on the entire time you were on the campaign trail together?"

He sighed, wondering how to put that answer into its proper context. "Yes." Was all he could come up with. Even if they hadn't slept together for a few weeks starting off, she had still been in bed with him, and more than once they'd spent hours just touching and kissing and exploring. More than once they'd maneuvered around the "no sex" rule by watching each other masturbate or by just touching rather than full body contact. He'd never planned it that way, but it just happened.

"Why did you marry me, Toby?"

"Because I love you." He meant it. "Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Again, Andrea sighed. She didn't doubt his love for her. She doubted his commitment. "I gave CJ an ultimatum right before we got married," she confessed. "And she yelled at me. God, she yelled at me. She told me that I had no right issuing ultimatums on friendship. And I've spent the night, replaying that conversation, and wanting to blame her for what happened. But she was right - I created the situation by placing that ultimatum on the two of you. She hates me."

"No, she doesn't."

"Yes she does. And I don't think it's out of jealousy. It's out of love for you and because I dared to manipulate your friendship with her." Andi sighed again and finally looked over at her husband. "I admit I don't like her much either, but I can't stop you from loving her. I can stop you from sleeping with her again, though."

"Andi ..."

"I want to get pregnant, Toby. I want to get pregnant and have a baby and have it with you. I want to watch your bald head grow gray and I want to be standing there with you when you watch Jed Bartlet get sworn in."

"Don't tempt the fates."

"Fuck the fates. I gave everything over to them when I let the two of you room together." She slid her wedding ring back onto her finger and got up, moving over to where he stood. Her hands rested on his chest and her forehead against his as she whispered, "I won't stop you from being friends with her, I won't even stop you ... I won't stop the late night phone calls and I know that when you guys win, you'll both have jobs in the administration. I won't stop late nights in the office together and God knows that I can't stop the two of you from talking to each other. I want to. I want to ban all further communication, but if there's anything I've learned over the course of being married to you, it's that she's as much a part of you as writing and breathing. I don't like it, but I love you, so I have to live with it. I want to work through this because I love you. But I swear to God, Toby, if you so much as lay another hand on her I will divorce you and take everything you have. Do you understand me?"

"Yes." He whispered.

She wanted him to take her the way she'd seen him take CJ. She wanted to feel that passion that CJ had felt as she came. But she also didn't want him touching her yet. She couldn't. She could still smell CJ on him and there was lipstick on his collar.

"Go shower, Toby. I can still smell her on you. Shower and change." He took his first real breath since Andrea had found out about him. He started to kiss her but she backed off. "Not until you shower, Toby. Shower here, with our things. You still smell like her."

"Okay." He bowed his head again and then moved into the bathroom. At least he was being given a second chance. He wouldn't screw it up this time.

Only after the bathroom door had closed behind him, did she move, managing to change out of her clothes and into a pair of flannel pants and a warm shirt. She waited until the she heard the shower running before turning to the bed. Seeing their sheets, and realizing that when he came out of that bathroom they'd be sharing that space together, struck terror through her heart. She couldn't go back to bed with him. Not tonight. Andi was mature enough to admit that she wanted to tempt the fates. She wanted Jed Bartlet to loose. If he lost then CJ would go back to California and hopefully never be within arms reach of Toby again. She also knew it was a pipe dream and that her fate was sealed. All she could hope for was that Toby's need for CJ was now out of his system. Unable to stare at the wedding picture or the bed any longer, she turned away, reaching blindly, angrily for her brush. How could he have done this to her!

Standing at the mirror, brushing out her hair, she realized the clothes were his – she'd stolen them once, long ago because they were so comfortable and they smelled of him and it was that touch she missed when he was gone. Some part of her mind told her that she needed to tear the clothes from her body, but no. She just stood there and stared at herself, wrapped in her husband's pajamas. No, she wouldn't throw him out tonight (even though she suddenly wanted to), but she also couldn't share a bed with him either. And when he emerged from the shower, she just handed him a blanket and his pillow and sent him down to his study. She couldn't face this tonight. An hour later, she followed him. Sleep wouldn't come tonight, and she had questions that needed answering.

"Is she really that amazing in bed that you were willing to throw us away for a last fuck?"

Toby turned to his wife and sighed. Andi stood in the doorway to his office, wrapped in his shirt, and tearstains on her porcelain face. His plan had been to call CJ, to tell her he was sorry, but he also knew that if Andi caught him, everything really would be over. Right now, he still had a fantasy of saving his marriage. "My relationship with CJ is more than that, Andi, and you know it. She's my best friend. And there's something more to us than …"

"But you married me, Toby. You married me. Was it because she wouldn't say yes?" The hurt came through clearer than the anger and Toby wanted to just go to her and hold her.

"I love you, Andrea. I do. And I never even asked CJ. It was never that with us. I can't describe it."

"You helped to talk a nation into rallying behind a liberal democrat from New England. You can talk me into not leaving you right here, right now. Describe it." She wanted more than the answers he would give her. She wanted to know why he took the late night phone calls and why his very tone changed when he talked to her and why he'd been sharing his bed with her for the campaign. She couldn't look at her husband now without seeing the other woman in their life draped over him, gasping his name as they moved against each other.

But Toby couldn't say anything. How could he tell his own wife, the woman he was desperately in love with, that it was his best friend who owned the other half of his soul? He just stood there and looked at her, refusing to look away from her eyes. "I can't, Andi." He repeated and then turned, flopping onto his couch. "I can't."

"Find a way." She reiterated. She refused to enter his den, his sanctuary, the place where the pictures of CJ remained. While her husband sat on his couch, staring at his hands, she took another look at the picture on his desk.

CJ had to have been maybe 25 in that picture, young and free. Her eyes held an expression that Andi had never seen reflected back – trust. Her hair had been longer then, curled around her shoulders, and somehow she was thinner now and the extra weight then made her seem even younger. She was beautiful in a way that Andi would never be – she was classic, handsome, eternal.

There wasn't a way to describe it, there really wasn't. Toby had no real justification for the fact that he'd slept with his ex-lover while his wife had been struggling with her own demons here at home. How could he tell Andi that it was more than love and less than love and only love that kept driving him back to CJ's bed. How could he tell her that it was the way CJ moved, and the way that she gave over such complete trust only to him? How could he tell Andi that he was in love with her, and only her, but that CJ was still the owner of his heart? How could he tell Andi that part of it had been jealousy; he'd seen Danny Concannon flirting with her and he didn't trust any other man near CJ.

"It doesn't work that way, Andi, and it cheapens what we have and my friendship with CJ to try and describe what you saw tonight."

"What I saw tonight was the destruction of our marriage vows."

"What you saw tonight was the two of us working through … us …"

"You planned this, Toby. You planned it. You lied to me and went to the fucking Watergate and you … I can't even …"

"Then don't." He sighed. "Andi, what happened between me and CJ had nothing to do with me and you."

"It doesn't? You cheat on me and it has nothing to do with us? Wow, that's rich." Andi still couldn't breach the doorway, the barrier. "I can't … I want to talk about this right now, but I can't. Not anymore. I'll … I'll talk to you in the morning."

"You aren't kicking me out?" He fully expected her to take away the blanket and pillow she'd given him and send his butt to the pavement outside.

"No, Toby. No. If you think that you're getting out of this that easily, then you have seriously under-estimated me. But if you even pick up that phone to call anyone tonight, then it's over. You hear me?"

He just nodded and didn't even look up as he heard Andi storm up the stairs and down the hall to their bedroom. He could only hope that in the morning, they'd both be able to find the words.

2005 

Words had never been needed between the two of them. It was a look, a touch; their basis for communication came as an escape from the constant barrage of words they lived with all day long. He could read her mind based on the way her eyes moved when she walked, she could read his based on the slump of his shoulders, and the touch of her hand to his was more powerful than the most explosive orgasm. With them, it had never been words, it had been the lines between.

With gentle fingers, he massaged the oil into CJ's shoulders and back. She was sore and tired, and even getting her to stay home for even part of a Sunday morning had been a headache almost not worth getting. But she was here and she was trying to relax, and for that, he had to give her credit.

She tensed again under his fingers, sensing his thoughts, thinking that maybe she should go into the office. She couldn't now stand to look weak, not with the convention fallout, the party a mess, and her still the one to hold the White House together – even if any part of the investigation was targeted at her. Toby switched how he was massaging, changed this thinking, and she relaxed again.

His fingers drifted lower, her back, and dripped down to caress around to the soft flesh of her stomach. He wanted to say she felt warmer there, that he could already feel the life growing inside of her, but it was the poet in him that felt that, not the man who knew better. Yet, still, her skin was warmer there and he gently rolled her over so that he could lay a kiss to the microscopic child of theirs inside of her. "What's wrong?" He asked, stupidly, but needing to hear her say it.

"We aren't talking about it here." CJ rolled over and sat up. Toby watched her, watched the slump of her shoulders and the tension in her back.

"What aren't we talking about? You haven't said much in almost two weeks and I'm starting to think …"

"Think what you want, Toby." She put her hand to her forehead and then looked at him. "I'm sorry," she touched him, the electric shock he'd needed. "I'm sorry. I … I just don't want to talk about it here."

"You're worried they're going to find out about …"

"Of course they're going to find out, Toby! Putting aside the fact that assuming I make it past the first trimester of this pregnancy, something which I don't have a good track record of, but assuming that simple fact, they're going to find out. They're going to ask where our conversations take place! They're going to dig and find out what exactly is going on with us! They're going to read Mandy's book! And suddenly –"

"No, CJ." He took her hands, conducting the electricity through his body and straight to his heart. "No. You aren't … are you getting a lawyer?"

"I don't need a lawyer, Toby!" She pulled away again, the connection severed. "I haven't done anything wrong." Three steps to the dresser. Three steps to the closet. The black skirt she loved, the blue blouse she loved, the black boots she loved. Three steps to the bathroom. "I need to shower." The door closed behind her.

Time passed, as it always did when he was near her, through a wormhole. He really didn't know what he was going to do. His first instinct had been to go to CJ, to tell her what was going on. But he couldn't, he couldn't add to the stress she was already feeling. Maybe this would all blow over. Maybe the actual source to Greg's story would come forward and say something. He hadn't done it, but it was his responsibility and if someone didn't talk soon, he was going to have to confess to a crime he'd never committed. He felt, more than heard, the water in the shower shut off, but when he didn't hear movement, he started to panic. "Jeanie?" He poked his head into her bathroom and suddenly they weren't fighting over work and the leak, suddenly they were lovers and he was worried about her. "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah." She was leaning against the shower wall, wrapped in her towels, looking green and weak. "Just had the water too hot."

He frowned and came forward, not liking the look on her face. "Jeanie?"

"Really, Toby, I'm fine." She gave him a weak smile and reached out for him – lover to lover. She was pregnant and dizzy and tired and she needed his help. Their fingers linked, soul mate to soul mate and it didn't matter that the world was coming apart and that Bartlet seemed to no longer trust CJ or that it wouldn't be long before she was hauled out of the White House for doing something she didn't do. They were lovers, best friends, and he kept his arms around her. It didn't matter for this second that with every day, they pulled further apart. Right now, he held her, binding them yet again.

He had been rough with her last night. Ignoring doctor's recommendations, they'd abandoned sanity for passion. The bed had been abandoned for against the front door, on the living room coffee table, and the kitchen counter. And now, after her shower, he could see exactly what he'd done to her. She had love bites on her shoulders and he knew both nipples were bruised. He was getting rougher and rougher with her as he grew more and more desperate. It wasn't going to be long before they zeroed in completely on her. The prosecutors wanted nothing more than to nail her for something, and Congress had always hated her. "I'm sorry. Did I … do you think we hurt ..."

CJ looked at him carefully. Toby's roughness-meter went up whenever he was feeling guilty about something. The last couple of weeks of their affair back during the first campaign had left her bruised every night. She knew what was bothering him, and she didn't want to think about it. And if she asked him, she'd have to testify to it, so she just put her hand on his shirt. "Hey, did you hear me complaining last night?" She'd wanted the roughness of last night, it relieved the stress she was going through every day. "And I think we're fine. We just … we can't do it again. Not until after …" she couldn't finish the thought. This pregnancy was going to end one of two ways, and she wasn't going to jinx any good luck the Creator might have decided to bestow.

"Once." He grinned a bit, but still felt guilty. "You complained once." When he'd pushed her up against her front door, he'd pushed into her almost immediately, and she hadn't been ready for him. Her whimper of pain had seared him completely, and he was sure that when her agents saw him this morning they would kill him.

"I got over it." She leaned forward and kissed him. "I have to get ready now."

"Yeah."

CJ waited until he'd left before leaning back and closing her eyes again. The room wouldn't stop spinning.

**1998**

"Andi, what's wrong?" He leaned in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her throw dinner together, watching her forget that he actually did eat his food kosher, watching her shoulders tense with every minute he stayed in the room.

"Nothing." She replied.

He walked forward, but didn't touch her. They didn't touch, they talked. So instead he reached around before she could contaminate his meal any further and took the pan out of her hands. "Andrea, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." She replied, still refusing to look at him. She couldn't tell him, she didn't know how.

"You're lying to me. Do you know how I know that you're lying to me? You never look at me when you talk to me when you're lying to me. When you want to hurt me, you look at my chin, when you tell me you love me, you look into my eyes, and when you're lying to me you can't look at me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Andi pulled away and resumed dinner.

"Thank you for holding dinner for me …"

"It's Friday night. Isn't there some rule about you and sundown?"

"I gave that rule up when I took on this job."

"You gave a lot of things up when you took on this job." The bitterness in her voice crept into the soup she was cooking.

"Andrea, we talked about what it would mean … and it's … it's not like you're here all day and I'm off working! You've got a constituency to represent!"

"I wasn't accusing you, Toby." Yes, she was.

"Yes, you were!" He paced back to the kitchen door, whispered a prayer, and then looked back at his Irish wife. "Andi, what is it?" He knew what it was, he wasn't completely oblivious, but he just wanted to hear it before she handed him those inevitable papers.

"Dinner's almost ready. Can you watch it while I set the table?" Her voice shook, then her shoulders, and finally she just shook herself into Toby's arms. "Toby …"

Thinking ahead just enough to turn off the stove, he cradled his wife close and moved them both out to the living room. "Andi … just tell me."

"I can't do this anymore, Toby. I can't. I can't …" she finally pulled back, and looked into his eyes. "I love you, but I can't wait to find out when we're going to maybe get pregnant, I can't wait to see when you have time to have a baby … and I can't be in a marriage where I only see you , maybe every other Friday for a meal that is far more important to you than it is to me."

"Andrea …" his world started to close in around him. "I thought we'd worked past everything … we're trying, I'm with you on this baby and …"

"A baby won't fix what's wrong with us, and it's been wrong since long before that first miscarriage or since you … since you cheated on me with her. We aren't good together, and it doesn't matter how much I love you, we just aren't good together." She pulled away, walked on shaky legs to her briefcase, and produced two identical manila envelopes.

"Divorce papers, already?" Toby swallowed. "Andi …"

"Separation papers. The first step. In them, I …" She watched his heart break as he took the envelope. "I voluntarily give up the house, you can keep it, you're the one who makes the payments on it anyway. We'll keep the joint account open until we divorce, but no further checks can be deposited … and I've switched any of the bills for the house that were in my name, to you. I'll move out, to a place closer to my district. I'll retain my possessions … and …"

"We can't talk about this? Andi, you can't … you've been planning this!" His temper took over. "You've been planning this! And you can't tell me that you haven't had it in mind for a very long time because you have full out separation papers, papers that are probably just the formality to the divorce papers that Rick has already drawn up! You think my own lawyer could have called me!" The envelope landed near the cold fireplace. "Move out, we'll try a trial run, whatever you need to get yourself back but you can't leave me."

"I won't give anything away. I won't ruin your reputation. It's as embarrassing for me as it is for you and CJ …"

"So this is about me and CJ!"

"No, Toby," she somehow managed to remain calm. "No. It's about the fact that we shouldn't have said our vows in the first place. We were better just as lovers …" a gentle hand rested on his chest, "it's how you are with all the women in your life. You're married to that pen and paper, to the White House, to the possibility of making a change in the world. Any of the physical women who come into your life are only mistresses, and I'm tired of being a mistress." She walked over to the fireplace, and handed him the papers again. "I won't tell anyone anything about you and CJ – the press would love to find it out, they already know that we're having trouble getting pregnant. I'm leaving because I'm not the number one thing in your life, and I never will be, and that's the truth of it. It boils down to irreconcilable differences, nothing more. I love you. And I know that you love me. You just don't love me the way I need to be loved." Brushing away her tears, Andi moved back to the stairs. "I'm going to go pack … I'll be at my mothers."

Toby just watched as she walked up the stairs, and listened to her feet above him. He couldn't speak, he couldn't feel anything, except the painful beating of his heart.

2005 

He woke to the sound of a blaring alarm. The bed was empty, and he frowned, reaching across to slam off the offending noise and then to look for CJ. Her briefcase was still by the bedroom door – she hadn't left yet. And then he heard it, the retching coming from the bathroom. Only five AM and CJ was throwing up her innards. It was going to be a long, long day. Without bothering to put his clothes on, he padded into the bathroom and knelt down next to CJ; her head was resting on the toilet seat and her entire body was shaking. She'd have to change her blouse.

"Hey," he whispered. "You going to be okay?" When she only whimpered in return, Toby moved to get her some water. "Rinse out your mouth."

"I don't know if I can do this, Toby." CJ murmured once her mouth was fresher. "I don't know if I can manage a complicated pregnancy and my job. I don't." Slowly, she got to her feet and shed her blouse, her camisole, and the bra underneath. Even Toby could tell that her breasts were swollen and painful – and still healing from his attack of them last week. CJ checked her skirt for evidence of her child's anger at even being alive and then stumbled back into the bedroom to find something else to wear. Toby stayed behind to clean up. It was the least he could do. Her health nagged at him. She'd never abort this baby on her own, but she couldn't carry it either. He knew that, just by watching her, he knew that. So all that was left to them was a dangerous miscarriage, and they'd been down that road once before, with disastrous results.

"CJ?" He didn't like the proposal he was about to make, but he needed to make it. He needed for her to know that he'd support her, no matter what, but that if she was holding onto this child out of any kind of obligation to him, she needed to rethink things. "CJ, are you … are you sure that carrying out this pregnancy to the end is the right thing to do? If it's affecting your health like this … maybe … maybe before a miscarriage does actual damage to you … we talk about the very real possibility of you …"

"Of what, Toby?" She turned to look at him again, "Of risking a reporter finding out that I'm sneaking into a clinic to …" she couldn't even say the words. She couldn't. And as their eyes met, she knew that the very thought was killing him as well. Their fingers linked and she sighed, leaning her forehead against his. "Let's see what happens … hopefully this too shall pass."

His answer was in how he stroked her cheek, how he kissed her, how he held her close until the residual emotions of the suggestion had worn away. "Want a ride in to the office?"

"No." She sighed. "It's best if we don't …" CJ pulled away, and, not for the first time, Toby noticed the change in her demeanor at the very mention of the White House. She knew. She had to know. CJ knew everything about him. She could read his mind, read how he touched her. She knew. And she was fine if they weren't talking about work, but work was all they had to talk about anymore. "It's best if we don't arrive at the office together. Anyway, I have my driver."

"You, have a driver now." He chuckled, as amused today as he had been over a year ago when Mark had first been assigned.

"Yes, nimrod." She chuckled. "I do. Which is good on days like today. It's a perk I really don't mind, I get to work on the way to work."

"Are you ever not working?"

Silence hung in the air for a long minute.

"No." She kissed his cheek and then left, leaving him alone to get ready by himself. Maybe he was reading her wrong, maybe she didn't know. The kiss had seemed real enough. Maybe he was just reading into the stress of the investigation and the lack of sleep – she'd been spending more and more nights at the White House – and maybe she really wasn't sending him silent signals that she knew.

But no, if there was anything in the world he could read, it was CJ Cregg's mind.

She knew.

**1998 **

He waited a few moments before knocking. She was working, her head bent over a release or a report or something, but she was highlighting and making notes. Her curls were slowly finding their way out of her hair, and he liked the style that was emerging. He still missed her longer hair, though, she'd looked so young then. But then again, since Casey Creek, she'd aged at least ten years.

"What is it, Toby?" She finally asked, without looking up.

Slowly, he stepped inside, and then closed the door. "I'm sorry again about this morning, if I'd known you had anyone over …"

"Yeah, it would have been nice if you'd called. That really wasn't the way I'd planned on saying good-bye to Will." With a sigh, she tossed her pencil down on the report she was reading and looked at him. "What's up?"

"You shouldn't be sleeping with reporters, CJ. It destroys your credibility."

"Getting beyond the fact that Will and I have been sleeping together for ten years, and that he's heading out of the country and just might never be heard from again, it's none of your business who I sleep with."

"It is if it interferes with your credibility, CJ. Who's next? Danny Concannon? He's been after you since he laid eyes on you!"

"Oh for crying out loud, Toby." CJ rolled her eyes. "What is this really about? You didn't come over to my place at five AM because you wanted to lecture me about my sex life. In fact, last I checked, we agreed that we should keep our noses out of each other's personal lives. What is going on?"

"Andi left me last night."

The air stilled and then receded from the room, leaving CJ gasping for breath. When she could feel her legs again, she stood and walked over to the couch, and put her arms around him. "Oh, God, Toby… I'm sorry."

He clung to her, "She left me. She … just up and left. She didn't … CJ, she … she …" he lived in words, but couldn't find a single way to describe how he felt right now. There were no words for the absolute pain and yet the complete absence of emotion. Andi was gone. He had to get up each morning without her, he had to go to bed without her. He had to find a way to live without her.

"It'll be okay, Toby. I promise." She kissed his forehead. "I promise." The only time she'd ever been angrier at Andi, was when she'd issued that ultimatum all those years ago. This time though, the pain was even sharper. It would have made sense if she'd left Toby when she'd caught the two of them together, but no, Andi had held on. Andi had made it work. And it was only now, after she couldn't get pregnant, that she was leaving him. "Look, it's late. Why don't I take you home. I'll put you to bed and keep you sober."

"What makes you think …"

"Shut up." She gathered her stuff and then pulled him to his feet. "I'm taking you home."

The turning of a key in the lock caught her attention, and CJ padded into the living room to see the reason for Toby's heartbreak enter the house.

"Well," Andi's voice was cold, "this is hardly a surprise."

"So why did you even bother to come back?"

"I figured Toby would be at the office already."

"So why is it a surprise that I'm here?" CJ glared at the other woman. "Anyway, what Toby does with his time is hardly your concern anymore."

"Apparently, he's already busy doing you."

"Think what you want, Andi. Seriously. You've never even tried to understand –"

"I understand that you and my husband were having an affair, and that barely twenty-four hours after I left him, you are right back here." She fought the tears that came.

"Get over yourself, Andi." CJ turned and walked into the kitchen. "Toby's still asleep, by the way. He passed out in the car and it took everything I had to get him into bed." She left out the conversation they'd had once she did get him up the stairs. "If you're here to take things from him, you might want to wait until your lawyers have drawn up papers."

"You're in my home, giving orders?"

"You're in Toby's home. He bought this place and you're the one who left." She poured coffee, hearing movement on the stairs.

"Get out, CJ."

"She gets to stay." The dark tone of Toby's voice made them both turn. CJ walked past Andi and handed him the mug of coffee. "She gets to stay, Andrea. Stop thinking that she's messing with you, that she's here in your place. She's my best friend. We catch each other when we fall. What do you want?" The words were sad, not angry.

Andi stared at them, and the words she'd been planning to hurl at him faded into nothingness. Had she been the one to leave Toby like this – broken and sad? "Toby …"

He held up a hand and then looked at CJ. "I'll see you at the office, Jeanie."

"You sure?" She was still glaring, unforgiving, at Andi.

"Yeah." He touched her arm and then nodded to the door. CJ moved into the living room, slowly, and then left, obviously uncomfortable with leaving the two of them alone together. "What do you want, Andi?" He repeated.

"I …" she sighed. "I came by to get my clothes."

"You don't have to leave," he whispered. "We can work this out …"

"No, Toby." She sighed and stopped herself from reaching for his hand. "No. We can't. I can't. Not right now."

"Then get your stuff and go," he said, quietly. "I need to get ready for work." He turned and walked out, unable to even look at her anymore.

**2005**

"Toby?"

He looked up at Ginger, "What?" It wasn't her fault he was always so gruff with her, and he knew that she knew that.

"She's here."

"Have her wait another ten minutes and then bring her in. I don't care if she's sitting in full view of the reporters, I want her waiting on her time."

"Yes, Sir." Ginger slipped back out.

Toby felt a brief rush of emotion after the door closed. When Ginger had first been assigned to him, a fresh-faced English Grad student right out of American University, he'd wondered what she was doing as a staff assistant. But Ginger's knowledge of the English language had proved invaluable over the past seven years. He wanted to take her with him to wherever he went next, but she was destined for better things than being an assistant. Anyway, now he didn't know where he was going and he was pretty sure that convicted felons didn't need assistants.

He picked up the book and grumbled. He didn't have time for this crap. He had meetings with the FBI, with CJ, and goddamnit with Haffley and Dresden on the leak. He didn't know how that file had made it into Greg's hands and he didn't believe it was Leo or Ginger but they had been the only ones in his office. And Greg would never take anything off a desk, not by himself. He had too much respect for the process to do that. It had been someone else, someone bent on making it look like CJ. And he knew that was where the FBI was leading – they'd made up their minds the minute the phone call had come in. CJ Cregg was friendly with the press, CJ Cregg had a friendly relationship with Greg Brock, CJ Cregg had intimate knowledge of the space station. They were putting the evidence to the case rather than making the case. It was going to ruin her career and he knew that eventually, he'd have to be the one to fall on the sword. The stress of this was killing her and killing the baby. Even worse, he knew CJ knew he was involved somehow.

His door opened again and Mandy stood there, framed by the oak and the background of the communications bullpen. She looked different now, her hair was longer and highlighted, and she was sporting a rather large diamond ring on her left hand. That was right, he remembered, she was engaged to one of the senators who hated the president. "Madeline."

"Toby." She came forward and shut the door. As always, Mandy looked confident, and he knew she had every right to be. He had no business calling her on the carpet for ghost writing a book, but he was angry.

Yet, was that guilt he detected behind her eyes? He leaned back in his chair, picked a book up off his desk, and began to read. "The Bartlet Administration was plagued with nepotism from the start. Leo McGarry's hiring of his long time friend's son Josh Lyman was only the beginning of a chain of command that started and ended with family loyalty. Perhaps the most startling example of this problem was the hiring of CJ Cregg as press secretary by her former lover, Deputy Chairman Toby Zeigler. Despite being married to Congresswoman Andrea Wyatt, he carried on an affair with CJ Cregg and landed her the job of administration Press Secretary. The list of men CJ bedded during the course of the administration didn't end there. She was seen around town with some of the most important politicians - often right before crucial votes in the House or the Senate - and it was well known that while she served as Press Secretary she and Danny Concannon were involved in a romantic relationship. Conflicts of interest like this showed that the administration was consistently unprofessional." He shook his head, "You know, I would think that you of all people, Madeline, a woman who fought her way to the top, tooth and nail, who broke barriers that for a while CJ could only dream of breaking ... I would think that you wouldn't stoop so low as to look at a woman courting a man's vote as her giving up sexual favors. Does that mean that every time I met with Senator Boxer that I was sleeping with her to get her vote? And let's forget that this is all very bad writing. Do you feel like explaining yourself?" He tossed the freshly published hardcover in her direction. The book slid off the desk and crumpled on the floor. After a moment, Mandy bent down to retrieve it and then placed it carefully back on his desk. She obviously didn't want to touch it either.

"No," she answered, defiantly. "No. I don't have any reason to explain myself to you. I think that question alone infringes on my freedom of speech."

"I don't care that you wrote a book, Mandy." Toby growled at her. "But when you go out of your way to defame …"

"I only told the truth, Toby."

"The truth. And so ruining someone's future political career by publishing photos of her extramarital affair with a man who eventually became her boss was within reason to do! We aren't running sex scandals here at the White House, Mandy! People resign because of them! Vice-Presidents resign because of them! What your photographer saw that night was none of your business!"

"What about all the other nights? There are public photos of you and CJ – before and after your divorce, Toby. What about Josh and Donna?"

"That's none of the public's business!" The book landed on the floor again, this time as Toby came around the desk to meet her on her ground. "Did we piss you off that badly?"

"I –"

"You decided you wanted to take on more than one client, Mandy. We let you go without a fight and found a new media director. We let you go with a party, Mandy, and this is how you repay us! We restarted your career in professional politics and this is what you do! You are about to be married to a man who is now on track to be President in eight years and you write a piece of trash like this!" If his blood pressure rose any further, his heart would come out the top of his head. "And you didn't even have the guts to put your name on it. You're clean, Mandy. You're clean. And CJ can't ever run for any political office, something she might be interested in someday, because this book has photographic evidence of a mistake the two of us made almost eight years ago. What did we ever do to you?" His energy suddenly spent, Toby walked back to his chair and sank into it. "Your name is out there, your fiancé, a man Josh introduced you to by the way, your husband will get to crow about family values to his heartland state, and the two of you will claim the White House since Leo won't ever run for President. You've set yourself up well, Mandy." He rubbed his eyes.

Mandy, for once, was speechless. She'd expected the lecture when she'd been summoned to Toby's office, but she hadn't expected the pain in his eyes. "Toby …"

"You got something wrong in this book, Mandy." He opened to the now infamous paragraph about young black men holding open the door for people, and whores sleeping their way to top positions, but couldn't stand to read it out loud. "See, the President never once thought about sex or color when hiring people. That was actually Josh's and my job. We were the ones who got to care about the cosmetics. But that never once stopped us from hiring the most qualified people. The most qualified, minority people, are also the ones that don't get the mainstream attention. Our national security advisor is going to be a Senator soon. Our press secretary was promoted, on her own merits, to Chief of Staff – and has proved to be even more persuasive than her predecessor. Josh Lyman was passed up for his promotion because we wanted him out grooming the next candidate." Toby bit back his own bitterness that Josh hadn't taken him out on the campaign trail. That wasn't the argument right now. "We found those people on the fringes, working in fields that never get any attention. We found the most qualified by digging and looking and sometimes it was old white men and sometimes it was young black women. You wrote on speculation, you fed the gossip, something you never liked to do when you were media director. Times have changed, I guess." He sighed. "But, CJ trusted you. And she doesn't know that I'm having this conversation, but CJ trusted you and she went to bat for you, even after that damned memo. This is how you repay her. I'm all for political ambition, but not when she gets hurt in the process."

For a minute, her temper flared, "What pisses you off more, Toby? The bad writing, the rumors that were put to light, or that CJ's precious reputation was snubbed. A reputation that only you seem to hold on to, by the way."

"I'm honestly not sure." He sighed, letting himself feel sympathy for just a moment. "Mandy, were you really that mad at us?" When she didn't answer, he shook his head. "Anyone who knows you knows that this was written by you. You've humiliated CJ, me, Leo, Josh, and the President. This is cruel, and you knew it when you decided to do it. And what's worse," he tilted his head, "is that I know you're ashamed of it."

"Toby ..." Mandy sighed and sank onto the couch. "Look, I'm not going to apologize. I did it for my own reasons."

"I know." His voice held that deadly calm that came before his storm. "And all those reasons have done is ruin the careers of a lot of women in this town, especially in this building."

"CJ will move on from it."

"Maybe."

"You have little right to talk, Toby. You spent so much time talking about morals ... and there you were, fucking CJ the whole time."

"I've dealt with that already, and it's not your place to judge me."

"You're a hypocrite, Toby."

He just glared at her. "You don't have any right to judge that." He'd finally had it. "Get out," he whispered. "Just get out. And take a good look around, because I promise you that it's the last time you'll see these halls."

"Toby, wait …" Mandy tried to plead her case. "Toby, I … I didn't … I didn't know …"

He looked up at Mandy. "Get out."

This time she did, her head bowed as she raced through the halls. She was almost free of the doors when the very recognizable face of the White House counsel walked past, on his way, clearly, to the Chief of Staff's office.

**1998**

"There's a quote," CJ reached over to her bedside table, balancing the phone between one ear and her shoulder, "in a book … I've been thinking about it a lot lately."

"That time being ever since Andi up and left Toby?" Anisah rolled her eyes, knowing that CJ would hear the gesture in her voice. "You know, if you two hadn't been stupid and just married each other ten years ago, none of this drama would have happened. But no, you had to break up with him and now you're destined to only be best friends so if you tell me that you're sleeping with him yet again, I'm hanging up this phone."

"Give me a little credit, Ani." CJ found the book she was looking for. "Anyway, I've long since come to terms with the fact that Toby wasn't sleeping with me when we were having that affair, he was sleeping with the idea of me and the idea of us. It's like we were acting out this fantasy we'd had forever and when the veil got ripped away, we realized we were happier with the reality."

""Somehow I follow that. What's this quote?" She wanted to ask if CJ was alright, but she knew that her friend wasn't. CJ would forever and always be dependent on Toby's love, just as Toby would be on CJ's. But together they were a scary, scary combination.

"Hold on …" she flipped through, finding the page. "Did you ever read Life Before Man?"

"The Atwood thing? I tried, but it was a bit convoluted for me."

"It is. But, the book is about these two couples whose lives are forever intertwined." Finding the page, she leaned back and began to read. "She riffled back through the days, looking for clues; at the base of her skull the old chill begins, the old fear, of events, cataclysms preparing themselves without her, gathering like tidal waves at the other side of the world. Behind her back. Out of Control. She stands up, turns the key in her desk. She has backbone. She has money in the bank, not enough, but some. She does not have to depend, she is not a dependant. She is self-supporting."

"Sounds familiar." Anisah sighed. "CJ, honey, you know I'm the last person in the world to think you need to settle down and get married, but sweet Allah, you need to settle down and get married. You need to be self-supporting, away from Toby. And don't tell me that once he can breathe again, cause right now I know he's suffocating, but once he's breathing again you two won't be up to your old tricks."

"We're good in bed together, that's all."

"And you love each other, but you aren't in love. Sometimes I wonder if you ever were … no, I know that you were. But it was that early love, that passion that eventually fades. You two are soul-mates, and you know I don't believe in romantic crap like that. But you really are and there's no better way to fuck up the soul-mate connection than sleeping together like you two do." Listening to the silence on the other end of the line, Anisah wondered if she'd pushed too hard. For as raw as Toby was right now, she knew that CJ's feelings were even worse. She blamed herself, rightly, for a lot of the problems in Toby and Andi's relationship, and now, seeing that Toby was single again, she also knew that her oldest friend was blaming herself for walking away ten years ago. Maybe Toby wouldn't be hurting like this if they'd just married.

"Is it my fault, Ani?" CJ's voice was soft, vulnerable.

"Not completely. Honestly, Ceej, you were a factor, you had to be. You were sleeping with him and Andi caught you. But there were problems with their relationship from the start. Sometimes I wonder if Toby is meant to be with anyone but his computer or his pen."

"Me too." CJ sighed. "I don't want to get back together with him, but … there's this desire I feel … it's never gone away. We're like gasoline and a match and whenever we're together there's this explosion that decimates all life in a fifty-mile radius … but god, when we're together, it's amazing."

"You've slept together already, haven't you?"

"No." CJ sighed. "No. It came close … the night he told me Andi had left. I took him home and he had me mostly naked before I realized what we were doing, but I sent him to bed and I slept on the couch. Andi walked in while I was making breakfast though."

"That had to be a mess."

"It was." She sighed again and blinked back a few tears. "I'm not dependent on him, Ani. I know what you're thinking. But we're so interdependent … we're symbiotic. I've been finishing his sentences since the first five minutes we spent in each other's presence. And …"

"He's your boss, again, CJ. You can't be doing this. You can't even be thinking it. Go back to that quote, okay? You're self-sufficient. And you've got that guy, what's his name, Danny? Isn't he flirting with you? Come on, here's a guy that, according to you, is nothing like Toby but everything you want. He's a writer, he's passionate, he's ambitious, and he believes in letting you be you."

"Danny's a reporter. I can't date him. It's a conflict of interest."

"That you've gone that far only shows that you've actually given it thought. I'm serious, Ceej, think about it. Someone, anyone besides Toby. Be friends with him. Please. Try."

"Yeah. I'll try." She chuckled.

"I gotta go, Abdul will be back with the boys soon and we're going out to dinner."

"Kiss him for me."

"I will. Kiss Toby. Tell him I'm sorry. We'll talk again, okay?"

"Yeah." CJ hung up the phone and stared blankly into space for a long time before picking up the book again, opening to the first page, and reading. _I don't know how I should live. I don't know how anyone should live. All I know is how I do live. I live like a peeled snail. And that's no way to make money._

**2005**

"Baby?" He paused in the doorway, watching her. "CJ?"

She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with exhaustion. "I'm no where near going home, Toby. Why don't you just head on and I'll see you in the morning." When he looked ready to argue, she just pointed to her stack of work. "Thanks to whoever leaked the damned story, my workload has tripled."

He knew she was aware of his reaction to her words.

"And so I need to stay here and work. And I have a couch if I need to sleep."

"Jeanie …" He wanted to plead with her, to remind her of her health and the baby, but one flash of her eyes told him that she knew full well what this was doing to her and the baby. "Okay. Don't be here too late, okay?"

"Yeah." For an instant she softened. "Yeah."

"I'll call you later?"

"Sure." But already her head was back in her work, and he had stopped mattering. Toby walked away quietly, and CJ never heard him leave. After a while, she stopped and rubbed her eyes, and reached into the drawer where Greg's manuscript was hidden. It would never get finished, well, at least not for a long, long time. She had to admit it had been exciting, the thought of her life story out there, written by one of the men she most respected. But, that man was behind bars, for doing what he was supposed to do. Even though he'd given her the draft right before he went to jail, she'd never read it, and she wasn't going to. No, this was just safekeeping. Until he was free. Tempted though, she opened the first page, but then stopped and put it back into the drawer. Maybe it was her own guilt, her own worries that she'd tipped someone else (and she didn't like to think of who that someone was) into leaking the information, and maybe it was that it wasn't finished, and Greg never liked his stuff being read before it was finished. But, just like Greg, the book was under lock and key for an indeterminate amount of time.

She glanced up and blinked at the numbers on the clock. It wasn't all that late – eleven o'clock. She knew the staff was gone, even Margaret, and that Toby was already back at his apartment. She couldn't see him right now. Something nagged at her – the truth of the situation. He wasn't telling her everything, and what he did know was turning out to be her downfall.

Midnight was marked by the faint sound of the bells at the National Cathedral. For a reason she didn't quite understand, she crossed herself.

She looked up again. Two o'clock. She took another sip of coffee and looked back at the paper she was working her way through.

Four o'clock. She pulled a red bull from her mini fridge and apologized to the child in her womb and started to think that maybe this pregnancy really wasn't the best idea. Maybe, Toby's hints had been right.

Five-thirty. She hastily scribbled note to Margaret asking her to make an appointment with her doctor. At five-forty five, Margaret appeared, silent and worried. She nodded at her boss' note and then slid it into Charlie's pile to take care of while she was up at the Hill today testifying.

At six-fifteen she stepped into the closet to change her suit. All she had left was the dark one with the short, almost frilly skirt, but the scarf helped. A touch of under-eye base to cover the dark circles and a fresh layer to her makeup made it look like she'd managed at least three hours of sleep. At six thirty, Charlie showed up with her coffee. And he was talking to Toby.

She looked at the coffee Charlie was handing out to her and sighed. "Get that coffee away from me."

Toby stared at her. She'd been here all night. She'd promised she'd go home and she hadn't. She was pissed at him. He knew that she knew. Well, if anything, she knew something. He could tell by the way she looked at him every time he told her to get a lawyer.

So he did what she wanted, he shooed out of her office. He went to work. He worried.

She could tell he was here before he walked in the door. She could tell he wanted to touch her as he did, but that she kept him from doing it. She wanted to hold him and kiss him. She wanted to be able to breathe. She wanted him to confess before she and Leo were dragged in front of a committee. "Good evening. You would not believe the day I've had. I'd tell you about it if I could talk about it, but a bunch of stuff happened today that I can't talk about so I guess I should stop talking about it." To do anything to keep him from touching her, she walked back out into the office, and Margaret was there. They blinked at each other – and CJ's heart sank at the look in Margaret's eyes. It was over. It was over. They'd haul her away before anyone confessed, and God, if it really was Toby … she didn't know what she would do. _She does not have to depend, she is not a dependant. She is self-supporting._

Toby, he was still there, staring at her. She couldn't look at him because if it was him, then he was to blame for everything going wrong and if it wasn't him, she was still going to be blamed. "But the truth is," she continued, ignoring the pains in her stomach, "I'm so strung out and wired on caffeine I can't even tell what room I'm in."

"C.J…" he started …

She couldn't hear it. She couldn't. She couldn't take what he was going to say. "Let's open that bottle of champagne you gave me for my birthday. Maybe the alcohol will balance out the caffeine."

For a minute he stared at her, but figured the alcohol wouldn't do any more damage than CJ's lack of sleep and the constant caffeine intake. This was killing her, he had to put a stop to it. "C.J., the leak..." He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to confess to a crime he didn't commit, but if he didn't, then they would ruin her. He watched as she went to get that bottle of champagne from last November. They'd been saving it for a special occasion.

She choked back tears as she stared at the bottle, "Let's have a toast. One final toast before I leave the White House for my perp walk in leg irons. Here, you open it. I'll put your eye out." She held it out to him, daring him with a look to open it, to risk it. Daring him to tell her the truth.

He stared at her. He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to celebrate the end with her. There wasn't anything to celebrate and he wasn't going to drink champagne to their broken hearts. "CJ …"

The tears in her voice were surprisingly well managed and she looked down at the bottle, "Fine, I'll open it," She sank down into one of her chairs, the energy going out of her and, against her will, the tears starting to choke her throat. "But just, uh, listen to what I have to say. Leo's in trouble." Maybe that would get through to him. If Leo had to testify, it would be the end of the Santos campaign. Someone had to confess before Monday and she was ready to do it, to fall on the sword, even if it meant lying, to preserve the presidency and Leo's reputation. Political appointees were also the scapegoats.

He knew. And he didn't know if what he was about to say came from his worry for her or his love for Leo, but he had to say it. "I know."

She blinked at him, wanting to be surprised. "You do?" Of course he knew. He knew everything.

Slowly, from somewhere, he found the strength to move. "I got a lawyer." Carefully, he sat in the other chair.

"What?" Oh Toby, no. No. Don't tell me this. Don't tell us this. We're breaking up, we're not even going to be together when this baby is born but please, please, don't tell me this. You didn't do it. Don't make my suspicions come true.

"I got a lawyer." He looked at her, unable to control the tears that were springing to his eyes. CJ turned away. She couldn't look at him while he said the words. "I did it."

She'd majored in English, minored in communications, had a Masters degree in mass communication and another in public polling and public speaking. There had been a time when, on Sunday mornings, for fun she had read through Webster's - just to challenge her mind. She had no unearthly word to describe the blow to her body as she listened to Toby confess. She'd known, and she'd been ignoring it, and now, now she ... move, CJ. Move. She got up, picked up the phone, told Margaret to get someone from the counsel's office over, and then hung up and looked into his eyes. Her best friend, her lover, her soul mate, was sitting here in her office, telling her that he'd been the leak. What did he expect, absolution and forgiveness just because she loved him with everything she was? Well, he had it. And somehow, once this black hole of nothingness wore away, she'd be able to see that. But right now, all she could think was that he had ... "We really can't say anything without counsel present." She interrupted his apology. God, how could he have done this to them? Nausea washed over her and she leaned in the window, trying to keep the coffee in her body. She had to keep moving. She had to keep moving. She had to keep breathing. Somehow, she had to keep breathing. Her stomach hurt. She bent over, sick, forcing the bile down, staring at him, communicating with him, the conversation they couldn't have verbally taking place just with their eyes. Somehow, through it all, though the tears in his eyes and the numbness in her body, somehow, she kept breathing.

Fin

_Copyright March 2006_

_To be continued in "Forks In the Road"_


End file.
